1 Samuel 1–4

In the opening chapters of the first book of Samuel (1—7) we have one of the darkest periods of Israel's history. The downward movement of the book of Judges went on until the nation was not only evil but desperate. Their sin was so great that God could no longer keep His outward links with Israel. To do so would have meant approving their sin or staining His glory.

Elkanah was a Levite. Eli was the high priest; so we are on the ground of the priesthood. If the priesthood had stayed faithful, there would have been no need to change the way God dealt with His people. So the priesthood had to be proved ruined first, before the true king could enter the scene. God could not stay in relationship with the people through a corrupt priesthood.

Elkanah means "acquired of God." He was the son of Jeroham (tenderly loved), the son of Elihu (my God is He), the son of Tohu (prostration), the son of Zuph (honeycomb)... Elkanah was an Ephraimite. But from 1 Chronicles 6:20-28 we learn that Samuel and his father were of levitical descent. Some have pointed to this as a discrepancy. But it does not clash at all with the statement that Samuel's father was of Ephraim. He was one of those Levites to whom cities were assigned in the portion given to the tribe of Ephraim (Josh. 21:20).

Elkanah's town is the one that later belonged to Samuel — Ramah, or ha-Ramah, "the height." Here we find it under its full title, Ramathaim-zophim, "the two heights of the watchers." The prophet's place was always that of a watcher. The prophet's face was always turned toward the slowly coming dawn. The "height" fits naturally with that place: those who are in it are, by that very fact, lifted up out of the world.

To be an "observer" in the sphere of responsibility is the beginning of all blessings. Zuph is an Ephrathite, so "fruitful"; and we cannot wonder that his son Tohu speaks of being "low, sunk down" — humiliation. This is always the way of blessing and of the knowledge of the Lord. So the next name is Elihu, "my God" — or my Mighty One — "is He." Moving forward we have Jeroham, "he is tenderly loved." Then we end with Elkanah, whom "God has purchased," or "acquired." How easily a Samuel comes out of such a stock as this!

Samuel was not only of the tribe of Levi. He was of the very family of Korah. God spared Korah's children, in sovereign distinguishing grace, from going down alive into the pit. At that very time Korah, and all the men who belonged to him, and the families of Dathan and Abiram went down into the pit, and the earth closed over them... "But the sons of Korah did not die" (Num. 26:11).

A debtor to mercy alone, he had good cause to worship. Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. It was no formal or meaningless ceremony with him. He knew what he owed to the Lord's distinguishing grace — not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence as a descendant of one of the spared children of Korah. It is the knowledge, and acknowledgment, of grace that produces worship and obedience in the believer's life.

Elkanah had two wives. Did he not know better than this? It bred unhappiness in the home, and it reminds us of the trouble around Abraham when he took Hagar as well as Sarah.

Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always driven by the lower nature. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife could not give. This was the likely reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8)… plural marriages never seem to have worked well in practice. Look at the shameful conflict in Abraham's family over the lower-ranking Hagar, and in Jacob's family the bitter jealousy between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. What could have been an ideal Hebrew home is spoiled by the bitter taunts of the proud Peninnah, and by the sorrow this brings to her barren rival.

Elkanah had two wives. Hannah, whose name means grace, was much loved but barren. Peninnah, whose name means pearl, had children. Hannah's name stands first, which makes it likely that her barrenness led Elkanah to marry a second wife.

She flourishes while Hannah is barren, but grows weak once Hannah becomes fruitful. Her name, Peninnah, has an uncertain meaning, but it probably means "shining, glittering." She may stand for the earthly things that so easily pull the heart away, even a Christian's heart, from what alone should hold it… After all, Elkanah did love Hannah. But grace cannot be at peace with a love that stays barren and bears no fruit.

The barren woman is in Scripture the type of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam.

Like Sarah, like Hannah, like Rebekah, there is nothing of nature's energy and nothing of nature's strength in the barren woman at all. She is completely desolate, completely helpless… In Hannah we see someone so deeply troubled before God about her need that He can meet it and answer her soul's prayer.

Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she becomes an example to us of prayer, of perseverance, and of God's answer and response.

This was true of Peninnah. She had proud contempt and scorn for Hannah's tender conscience, and she used this public occasion to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This deepened not only her grief but her loneliness. In a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.

However, the Lord made His grace abound over all Hannah's weakness and need, and He put a song of praise into her mouth… Making the barren woman rejoice is the Lord's own work. He alone can say, "Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married, says the LORD." (Isa. 54:1)

Shiloh means "peace" or "rest." Israel had conquered a large part of their inheritance and were now at rest, for the land was subdued before them. So they set up the tabernacle in the place the Lord had chosen to put His Name there (Deuteronomy 12:11).

After all the forgetting and turning away, Shiloh was still the only place where the Lord had recorded His name. It was still the same. The mercy-seat, cherubim, golden altar, lampstand, laver, altar of burnt offering — all were there as at the first. There Elkanah brought his whole house, all his sons and daughters. There they came to worship.

This godly Israelite came from the family of Korah, the man destroyed with all his company for his rebellion in the wilderness. Yet Korah's children did not die (Numbers 26:11). "A debtor to mercy alone," he had good cause to worship. Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. For him it was no formal or empty ceremony. He knew that Jehovah's distinguishing grace had given him not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence, since he came from one of the spared children of Korah. Knowing grace, and owning it, is what produces worship and obedience in a believer's life.

We do not meet with this name until 1 Samuel 1:3. It came in with prophetic testimony. Faith laid hold of Jehovah's glory when Israel had corrupted themselves and were weak and low. Scripture reveals that there is a mighty heavenly host, and principalities and powers in the unseen world. God is the God of them all, as well as God of all the elements of nature, which He has often used to punish His enemies.

We first find this title in the first book of Samuel, in the time of the judges. Every man then did what was right in his own eyes, much as is the case today. Many of the prophets use the name, especially in days of weakness and failure. It is good to know that, despite man's failure, there is an all-sufficient God, who has unlimited resources at His disposal.

Eli was godly himself and feared God, but he kept no order in his family of priests. The priesthood should have bound the people to God. Instead it morally separated them from Him. Hophni and Phinehas, the sons of Eli, were at Shiloh; but their conduct made the people despise the offering of the Lord.

Eli seems to have taken the place of high priest, though he is not called that. He left the duties of priesthood to his sons. Scripture says "every priest stands daily" (Hebrews 10:11). Yet Eli is never shown standing. He is shown sitting twice (chapter 1:9; 4:13) and lying down once (chapter 3:2).

All through Scripture, the brightest testimony for God comes in the times of worst corruption among His people… In the opening chapters of this book we see God working in grace. The sons of Aaron had failed, yet He kept the light of His lampstand burning… He did it to guide and comfort the godly, and to deliver His oppressed people in due time. This is a great encouragement to count on the Lord in an evil day.

After all the forgetfulness and departure, Shiloh was the only place where the name of the Lord was recorded. It was still the same as at first. The mercy seat, cherubim, golden altar, lampstand, basin, altar of burnt offering — all were there as at the beginning. There Elkanah brought his whole house, all his sons and daughters. There they came to worship.

Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. For him it was no formal or meaningless ceremony. He knew what he owed to the Lord's distinguishing grace: not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence, since he descended from one of the spared children of Korah. It is knowing grace, and acknowledging it, that produces worship and obedience in the believer's life.

Hannah, on her visits to Shiloh, presents a sorrowful picture. Elkanah loves her and gives her a double portion. Meanwhile Peninnah, her rival, provoked her about her childlessness. So she wept and did not eat at the feast. Then she got up from the sacrificial feast, which she had not tasted, and sought the presence of the Lord.

From the start, marriage was meant to give a man one companion only. Marriages with more than one wife appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over the inferior Hagar. Look at Jacob's family, and the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. Here too it breeds strife and bitterness of spirit that is shameful to see. This might have been an ideal Hebrew home. Instead the elated Peninnah spoils it with her bitter taunts, and her barren rival is left in sorrow.

Hannah means "she was gracious," and Peninnah, "glittering."

In sacrificing, Elkanah did not forget his wives and Peninnah's children, but he showed more favour to Hannah because he loved her. The Lord had, in His wisdom, kept her from having children. Hannah was to learn the lesson, as we all should, that "it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual" (1 Cor. 15:46). The Lord allows mere human nature to have its way at first, to prove its own emptiness. Then He brings in what is altogether superior to it — just as Adam was the first man, and Christ the second Man.

Here we see the barren wife, the persecuting woman, two worthless men as priests, and a feeble, failing old man as high priest. In such circumstances we are allowed to see the sovereign grace of God at work. It passes by the strength of nature in the fruitful woman. It works through the weakness of nature in the barren woman. And it abounds over the sin of man in the priests.

The "six measures" of barley that Ruth was carrying to Naomi equalled two ephahs. That was twice what she had gleaned herself. It was a "double portion," a sign from Boaz of special favour (Deuteronomy 21:17; 1 Samuel 1:5).

Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always driven by lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife could not have. This was probably the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so." Marriage was meant from the start to give a man only one companion. Marriages with more than one wife never seem to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and the bitter jealousy in Jacob's family between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. Here too it breeds strife and bitterness that is shameful to see. The bitter taunts of a proud Peninnah spoil what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home, and they leave her barren rival in sorrow.

Hannah means "grace"; but before she matched her name, she pictures the flesh that cannot bear fruit for God. We must always begin there… Like Sarah long before, she faced the hatred and contempt of the wife according to the flesh. That wife was thriving, for Peninnah "had children" when Hannah had none. But the first wife hated her all the more, because their husband's love turned toward Hannah — the wife who was miserable and barren.

When he sacrificed, Elkanah did not forget his wives and Peninnah's children, but he favoured Hannah because he loved her. The Lord had, in His wisdom, withheld her from bearing children. … But Hannah was to learn the lesson, as we all should, that "it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual." The Lord allows mere human nature to have its way at first, to prove its own emptiness. Then He brings in something far better — just as Adam was the first man, Christ the second Man. … Even though the Lord Himself is enough to satisfy our hearts, He has planted in every believer a desire to bear fruit for Him. This is only normal and right.

Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she would be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of answer and response to God. What a wonderful story it is. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and how deeply she felt it. She could have gone to her husband and complained about the treatment, but in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.

The barren woman is in Scripture the picture of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam.

It is the Lord's special work to make the barren woman rejoice. He alone can say, "Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married, says the LORD."

Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always based on lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife had not been given. This was likely the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8). Marriage at first meant a single companion for a man, and plural marriages appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and the bitter jealousy in Jacob's family between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. The bitter provoking of the proud Peninnah, and the sorrow it caused her barren rival, spoil what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home.

We know from the book of Daniel that Jewish women longed to give birth to a son. They hoped that son would prove to be the Messiah, the One long promised to Israel. So for a Jewish woman to be barren was a great reproach to her.

She looked at Hannah's tender conscience with proud contempt and scorn, and she used this public occasion to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This intensified not only her grief but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.

Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she becomes an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of answer and response to God. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and how deeply she felt it. She might have gone to her husband and complained of the treatment, but in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.

The barren woman is in Scripture the type of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam. He can neither do anything for God nor for himself, as regards his eternal destiny. He is emphatically "without strength"; he is "a dry tree," "a heath in the desert."

Hannah means "grace"; but before answering to her name, she represents the flesh incapable of bearing fruit for God. We must always begin there… It is easier to confess that we are guilty than to admit that we cannot do anything. Admitting that our flesh has no power humbles us deeply.

The devil would seek to occupy our thoughts with the trial, to bring in distance between our souls and the LORD. He would seek to fill our minds with the harsh words and unjust acts of those who oppose us. In this way he leads us to "fret" and "grieve" and complain in bitterness of soul, like Hannah of old. Faith turns the trial into an occasion for turning to the LORD. It not only defeats the devil but gets blessing out of the trial.

The contrast is striking. First we see Hannah unable to eat, weeping in bitterness of soul. Then we see Hannah go on her way and eat, with her face no longer sad. How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is that she had poured out her soul before the Lord. The persecution of her adversary, the fretting of spirit, the bitterness of soul — she poured it all out with weeping before the Lord. Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always based on lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, denied to the first wife. This was probably the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8). Marriage as first set up planned only one companion for man. Plural marriages seem never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. The proud Peninnah's bitter provoking spoils what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home, and leaves her barren rival in sorrow.

This unwarranted provoking of Hannah by her unworthy companion must have gone on for years. Only someone in the same position could understand what the poor, childless wife suffered from her adversary's tongue during those years of hope deferred. It is beautiful to see her submit without resentment to the persecution of Peninnah, the proud, if not happy, mother of children. There is no hint of anger in Hannah. She did not pay back insult with insult, but poured out the story of her grief in the ears of the God of Israel. He heard her complaint and answered, after her weary years of waiting, beyond anything she likely expected.

Men despised the offering of the Lord. Those who kept up the outward form did so with heartless indifference to the holiness of God and the authority of His word. This was the case with Peninnah. With proud contempt and scorn for Hannah's tender conscience, she took this public chance to provoke her. She was all the bolder because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This deepened not only her grief but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.

Notice another admirable trait in Hannah's character: she refused to eat of the sacrificial feast. She "wept and would not eat." By this she shows that she knew the law of the Lord and obeyed it. It appears that law did not allow the sacrifices to be eaten in mourning. (See Lev. 10:19; Deut. 26:14; Hosea 9:4.) How lovely this subjection of soul! In all Israel, what fitter vessel could give the nation its long-needed deliverer? She lived up to the meaning of her name, to bend. She bent under her cruel adversary's constant reproaches, and she bent to the Lord's will.

Here we find that it was God who had closed up her womb. I believe He did this to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she might be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of God's answer and response. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and she felt it deeply. She might have gone to her husband and complained about the treatment. Instead, in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.

How striking is the contrast! In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat and weeps in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." What made the difference? Had her circumstances changed, or had the cause of her sorrow gone? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is that she had poured out her soul before the Lord. The persecution of her adversary, the fretting spirit, the bitterness of soul — she poured it all out with weeping before the Lord. Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

It was a tender word from Elkanah to his weeping wife, when he said, "Am I not more to you than ten sons?" — meant to console her in her sorrow. Hannah, no doubt, fully appreciated the love and sympathy behind it. But she would not be put off by it. She still longed for the one gift from the Lord that could satisfy her aching heart — a son. He clearly did not share her longing for a son. He seemed satisfied with the children Peninnah had given him, and Hannah prayed and bore her grief alone.

Elkanah was a kind, considerate husband. But he did not understand how deep her grief was, for he thought she would consider him better to her than ten sons. There is a spiritual lesson here. The Lord Himself is enough to satisfy our hearts. Even so, He has planted within every believer a desire to bear fruit for Him, and this is only normal and right.

Hannah has a remarkable trait: her character is that of the believer in all ages. Hannah means "grace"; but before answering to her name, she represents the flesh unable to bear fruit for God. We must always begin there… It is easier to confess that we are guilty than to admit our incapacity. To admit that our flesh is powerless is deeply humiliating… She does not desire this son for herself. She is entirely willing to "give him to the LORD all the days of his life." What she needs is a sign of God's favor. What she needs is "grace!"

And why a son? Was it merely a preference for boys? No; a higher motive moved her — she seems to have had in view God's glory and the good of His straying people. She knew well the condition of Israel. Eli's sons held the highest position, and what they did told the sad and undeniable story: "Fallen! fallen!" So her earnest desire goes up to God for a son who might grow up under the blessing of the LORD to be a deliverer in Israel.

See the striking contrast. In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat and weeps bitterly in her soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is this: she had poured out her soul before the Lord… Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

The devil would seek to occupy our thoughts with the trial to bring in distance between our souls and the LORD. He would seek to fill our minds with the harsh words and unjust acts of those who oppose us. In this way he leads us to "fret," and "grieve," and complain in bitterness of soul, like Hannah of old. Faith, making the trial an occasion of turning to the LORD, not only triumphs over the devil, but gets blessing out of the trial.

The tabernacle had been the house of God in the wilderness. Israel carried it, with all its sacred furniture, into Canaan and pitched it at Shiloh (Joshua 18:1). So this was the place Israel came to with their yearly sacrifices (1 Sam. 1:3). It was still called "the tent of meeting" (1 Sam. 2:22), but also "the temple of the LORD," and "the house of the LORD" (1 Sam. 3:3, 15). These later names only pointed forward to the house that would later be built in Jerusalem.

One resource remained to her: to present her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could give her an answer in grace; so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there… What suffering! She has no resource in herself; the world is hostile to her; those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her! How can she eat and drink and rejoice, when her soul's only desire has found no answer?

Eli, the high priest, was a man of much personal piety. He comes before us as a weakened old man sitting by a post of the temple (verse 9). He mistakes the exercises of a godly soul for the ravings of a drunken woman (13). Sitting where God had provided no seat would show a lack of spiritual energy. His mistake about Hannah would show a lack of spiritual discernment.

Eli was a stranger to such exercise. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge instead of standing as priest… He knew how to reprove her. He did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).

Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings; she drew near with her tears… But here is the remarkable thing in the story. God draws our attention to the high priest himself, who did not share His mind. This was the very man who should have entered into the greatest difficulties of God's people. Here he was among the last to understand. I have no doubt that Peninnah, bad as she was, knew more of the secret of Hannah's grief than Eli did… So at the very start God shows us a failure. Up to that moment this man was outwardly the appointed channel of communication — from God to the people, and from the people to God.

The sights around the tabernacle doors stirred her devoted heart deeply. The shameless immorality and greed of Hophni and Phinehas told a repulsive tale of wickedness — and that in front of the sanctuary! They flaunted sin in the very face of Israel's God; "men treated the offering of the LORD with contempt"… Eli himself should above all others have understood this. He should have been low in the dust before God over such a shameful state of things. Instead he seemed hardly troubled. A good, easy-going man, he sat calmly at the temple entrance — not to watch and correct his corrupt sons, but to observe, misread and rebuke a godly woman at prayer!

She asked at Shiloh for a son, and she asked for him for Shiloh… There may be two parties at Shiloh who do not understand each other. Eli sits on a post, and Hannah weeps bitterly. But God grants the weeping woman what she asked.

Peninnah looked on Hannah's tender conscience with proud contempt and scorn, and she used this public moment to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This deepened not only her grief, but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.

It was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did this to test her faith and to make her pray as she did, so that she might be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of God's answer and response. Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and she felt it deeply. She might have gone to her husband and complained about the way she was treated. Instead, in verse 10, she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.

Hannah knew how desolate she was as a wife without a child. Grace led her to cast her care on the Lord without judging Him hard toward her. She spreads her soul's desire and grief before Him. Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings; she drew near with her tears… The remarkable feature of the account is this: God points out that the high priest himself did not share His mind. The man who should most of all have entered into the greatest difficulties of the people of God was here among the last to understand her case. The very man who should have pleaded for her, carrying her cry to the Lord as her intercessor, misjudged her instead.

In Hannah's desire for "a man child" we see not only the heart of a mother but the heart of an Israelite. She had, no doubt, seen and mourned over the ruin of everything connected with the temple of the Lord. The dimmed eye of Eli, the vile actions of Hophni and Phinehas, the fading lamp, the desecrated temple, the despised sacrifice — all of it told Hannah that something was truly missing. Only one thing could supply that lack: the precious gift of a man-child from the Lord.

Hannah has a remarkable trait: her character is that of the believer in every age. Hannah means "grace." But before she answers to her name, she stands for the flesh, unable to bear fruit for God. We must always begin there.

The story sets before us the barren wife, the persecuting woman, two worthless men as priests, and a feeble, failing old man as high priest. In such circumstances God lets us see His sovereign grace at work. It passes by the strength of nature in the fruitful woman. It works through the weakness of nature in the barren woman. And it abounds over the sin of man in the priests.

How came this difference? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is this: she had poured out her soul before the Lord. The persecution of her enemy, the fretting spirit, the bitterness of soul — she had wept it all out before Him. She pours out her sorrow, and God pours in His peace.

And why a man child? Was it just a preference for boys? No; a higher motive moved her — she seems to have had God's glory and the good of His erring people in view. She knew the condition of Israel well. The sons of Eli held the highest position, and what they did told the sad and undeniable tale of "Fallen! fallen!" So her earnest desire goes up to God for a son who might grow up under the blessing of the Lord to be a deliverer in Israel.

Hannah was alone and shamed. Around her was either spiritual deadness or shameless wickedness. Judgment from the Lord was coming, for He had been dishonoured in His sanctuary. It was at such a moment that it pleased God to reveal Himself by a name which He had not taken before... The time had come for such a revelation of the divine glory. It was well suited to encourage the faith of the weak when hostile power stood against them. Hannah was the first that we read of who cried to the Lord as Jehovah Tzebâôth (the Lord of hosts or armies, 1:11). David also met and overthrew Goliath in the might of that name (17:45).

These words often refer in Scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to the Lord and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.

How striking the contrast in Hannah. In verse 7 she cannot eat and weeps in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and did eat and her countenance was no more sad." How did this difference come about? Was it change of circumstances or the removal of that which caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is this: she had poured out her soul before the Lord... Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

She had prayed, "O LORD of hosts... remember me" (11); now we read, "the LORD remembered her" (19). She gets a son — the man-child she had asked for. The child that she receives from the Lord she gives back to the Lord.

Many expositors have concluded from this that Samuel was a Nazarite. The other two marks of a Nazarite are not mentioned. But Hannah's words do carry the thought that Samuel was to be wholly for God and live for Him: "I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life."

The long hair of the Nazarite announced to everyone that he had given up his dignity and personal rights as a man, so that he could devote himself to the service of God... He was born to this dignity, yet he set it aside. He was meant to rule, yet he submitted himself to the Lord as a wife to her husband. Without this dependence there can be neither service for God nor power for it. That which was a sign of weakness for the Nazarite became the source of his strength.

This dear woman, after making this vow, continued praying before the Lord. She continued praying. This was not a prayer you can put in the files and draw out at some convenient moment. It was a continuing in prayer, the desire of the heart so active in this way. Prayer, prayer, prayer. I do not know how long she prayed, but she continued in prayer. She had made her request. She had expressed her vow. She had expressed her determination to do this. And she continued in it until the time came when she got peace and assurance. The bitterness passed away.

Faith in the heart may express itself in many ways. It may come as urgent earnestness, like Abraham pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah. Or it may come as patient endurance of suffering, as with Job and Joseph. Here the silent appeal of the woman's touch shows how eloquent before God the very silence of faith may be. In the same way, the wordless posture of Hannah did not escape the pitying eye of Jehovah (1 Sam. 1). For it is with the heart that man believes, whatever the way faith expresses itself before people.

Eli was a stranger to such exercise. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge instead of standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to rebuke her. But he did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).

Here the account names Eli the priest for the first time. Her silent prayer astonished him, and he accused her of drunkenness. His astonishment and his accusation are a witness to the sad state of Israel. Clearly few ever sought the presence of the Lord. His rebuke also makes it clear that drunkenness during the feasts at Shiloh was not unusual.

One resource remained to her: to bring her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could give her an answer in grace; so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there. She meets a spiritual leader of her people who does not understand her. He confuses the working of the Spirit of God with the working of the flesh. He believes she is drunk, when in fact she is in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource in herself. The world is hostile to her. Those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!

Of all people, this man should have been in close touch with God. Instead he was so far out of communion with Him that he could not tell a sorrowful woman from a drunken woman. God's priest should be both compassionate and sympathetic (Heb. 5:2). The risen Christ is all this and more; Eli, sadly, was only a poor foreshadowing of Him.

Hannah found this long ago. In her deep trial she could say, "I have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result we read, "her face was no longer sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were just the same. Afterwards the Lord did change her circumstances, but first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah. God brought her from grief of heart and bitterness of soul into great peace — the peace of God which surpasses all understanding — as she made her requests known to Him.

When she poured out her request in sorrow, "only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard." She prayed "in secret" to Him who "hears in secret," and He had rewarded her "openly."

This godly woman prayed in the house of the Lord, when the worshippers had gathered. Notice it says of her: "Hannah was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard" (v. 13). To have prayed out loud in that mixed company would not have been proper. Yet she could pray in her heart, and God heard and answered.

"Hannah was speaking in her heart," but Eli only marked her mouth. He judged by the "outward appearance," and decided she was drunk!

Eli was a stranger to that kind of praying. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple. He was sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to correct her, but did not provide the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood.

This is the first time Eli the priest appears. He was amazed to see her praying in silence, and he accused her of being drunk. His astonishment and accusation are a witness to the sad state of Israel. Clearly few ever sought the presence of the Lord. And his rebuke makes it plain that drunkenness was not uncommon during the feasts at Shiloh.

This was not the only time people moved by the Spirit were judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost, twelve hundred years later. The "spiritual man" is always thought "mad" by those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul... She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not hit back. She does not remind him of his sons' failings, or tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others.

We read of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, that in a crisis her mouth moved but her voice was not heard. It would perhaps be a good thing if in a crisis our feelings were more active than our voices. We would feel the difficulties that come in as our own, and weep over the dishonour brought to the name of Christ.

So Hannah found, long ago, when in her deep trial she could say, "I... have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result, we read, "Her countenance was no more sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were just the same. Later the Lord did change her circumstances. But first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah.

By "wine" we mean an intoxicating drink made from the grape, unless the context changes that sense. That this is the force of yayin will be clear from looking at all the texts where it occurs... The word was even used to denote the effect of wine.

In himself he had a heart for the Lord, but not enough to stand for Him. With him the whole order he belonged to is wearing out. His spiritual sense is blunt, as is his nature. He cannot see what kind of woman stands sorrowing in front of him. He sees only the moving of lips, and he misreads it. He passes a judgment that he very soon has to take back. Yet this stirs no self-judgment in him, and no sight of his own shallowness. We find this in Eli all the way through.

Eli himself should have understood this shameful state of things more than anyone. He should have been low in the dust before God over it. Instead he seemed hardly troubled. Like a "good and easy man," he sat at ease at the temple entrance. He was not there to watch and correct his corrupt sons. He was there to watch a godly woman at prayer, misread her, and rebuke her! ... "She was speaking in her heart," but Eli only watched her mouth; he judged by the "outward appearance," and decided she was drunk!

Eli was a stranger to such exercise of soul. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed in silence, and made the sad blunder of judging her drunk. He knew how to reprove her, but did not provide the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood.

Poor Eli made a serious blunder in his dealings with Hannah. He supposed her to be drunk. In reality she was a sorrowful woman pouring out her heart to her God. Nearness to God was meant to give the priests good judgment about holy and unholy, clean and unclean. That way they could instruct the people... How is it with us? Grace has put every believer into the priestly place, but are we in the power of it? Are we spiritually discerning?

She meets a lack of understanding in the spiritual leader of her people. He confuses the work of the Spirit of God with the work of the flesh. He believes she is drunk, when in fact she is in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource within herself. The world is against her. Those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!

The ordered way of blessing is closing up, and God is finding new channels to pour His grace into. His grace must not lack expression while the need is there that demands it. The cry of distress may be misinterpreted, even by His people; but His own ear cannot be stopped.

"The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working" (James 5:16). Cold prayers, like cold suitors, never get anywhere. Prayer without fervency is like a sacrifice without a fire. Prayer is called a "pouring out of the soul" to show its intensity (1 Sam. 1:15). Formality starves prayer.

How often we carry our sorrows instead of pouring them out before the One who came into this world of weeping, to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Have we a secret sorrow? Have we an adversary who provokes us bitterly (verse 6)? Is there anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret (verse 6)? Anything that grieves our hearts (verse 8)? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears (verse 10)? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace.

Hannah's reply to Eli was most beautiful and precious. Completely unlike the effects of liquor, she was a woman of sorrowful spirit who had poured out her soul before the Lord. She pleads with him not to consider her a daughter of Belial, a virtual enemy of the Lord, for the facts were quite the opposite.

The Hebrew word means "worthless, lawless." It is not a proper name. It stands as a personification of evil, so we have "son of Belial," "daughter of Belial," and so on. Deut. 13:13; Judges 19:22; 1 Sam. 1:16; 1 Sam. 25:17, 25; and others.

Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings. She drew near with her tears, and there too she felt the provocation of her adversary just as keenly. But here is the remarkable feature of the story: God calls our attention to the high priest himself, who did not share His mind. The one who should above all have entered into the greatest difficulties of God's people was in this case among the last to understand her.

This is not the only time people have judged those moved by the Spirit to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost twelve hundred years later. The "spiritual man" is always thought "mad" by those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul.

She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of the failures of his sons. She does not tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others. No, nothing of this; true to her name, she bends again, and tells the aged priest the story of her grief, if not its cause.

How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all. The circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is this: she had poured out her soul before the Lord... Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

The Hebrew word means "worthless, lawless." It is not a proper name. It is used as a picture of evil itself, so we have "son of Belial, daughter of Belial," and the like. Deut. 13:13; Judges 19:22; 1 Sam. 1:16; 1 Sam. 25:17, 25; and others. In the New Testament it stands in contrast to Christ, as if it meant Satan, 2 Cor. 6:15.

Hannah's reply to Eli was most beautiful and precious. Her state was the very opposite of the effects of drink. She was a woman of sorrowful spirit who had poured out her soul before the Lord. She pleads with him not to think of her as a daughter of Belial, a virtual enemy of the Lord. The facts were quite the opposite.

Eli was a stranger to such exercise of soul. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to reprove her. He did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).

She spoke in her heart, but Eli only watched her mouth. He judged by what he saw, and decided she had been drinking. This is not the only time that people moved by the Spirit were judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost twelve hundred years later. Those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul always think the "spiritual man" is "mad." "How long will you go on being drunk? Put your wine away from you," the old man harshly calls to her. Notice her meek reply... She speaks to him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of the failures of his sons. She does not tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others.

She does not say, "I am the woman you misjudged so rashly at the door of the tabernacle. This is the child I was praying for when you charged me with drunkenness." No, there is nothing of this. Her triumph is in God, as one who knows Him as the generous Giver of all good.

These words often refer in Scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but they were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail spoke to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.

Poor Hannah was full of bitterness and wept a great deal. One resource remained: to lay her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could answer her in grace, so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there. She meets the lack of understanding in the spiritual leader of her people. He confuses the work of the Spirit of God with the work of the flesh, and believes she is drunk when she is in fact in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource within herself; the world is hostile to her; those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!... but what she needs is a sign of God's favour; what she needs is "grace!"

Eli has enough conscience — he is, after all, a true servant of God — for the language of truth to carry weight with him. It makes him reverse his first impression. He blesses Hannah on God's behalf (v. 17).

Of all people, this man should have been in close touch with God. Yet he was so far out of communion with Him that he could not tell a sorrowful woman from a drunken one. God's priest should be both compassionate and sympathetic (Heb. 5:2). The risen Christ is all this and more; Eli, sadly, was only a poor shadow of Him. When Hannah corrected him, all he could vaguely say was, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him."

This was not the only time that people moved by the Spirit have been judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost, twelve hundred years later. Those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul always think the spiritual man is mad.

She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of his sons' failures. She does not tell him to look to his own house before rushing to accuse and condemn others. No, nothing of this... Her deserved reward is an answer of peace. She does not despise the blessing of a man who a moment before had charged her falsely. At that time he was God's highest representative on earth. She took his blessing as the voice of God to her soul, little as he may have understood it himself, and she went on her way rejoicing.

Hannah's faith lays hold of grace at once, even before receiving its effects. "And the woman went her way, and ate, and her face was no longer as before" (v. 18). This assurance of faith is enough to strengthen her heart and fill her with a joy that everyone can see.

Hannah found this long ago. In her deep trial she could say, "I have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result, we read, "Her face was no longer sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were exactly the same. Later the Lord did change her circumstances. But first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah. By making her requests known to God, she passed from grief of heart and bitterness of soul into great peace — the peace of God that surpasses all understanding (1 Samuel 1:6-18).

I believe there are times when we pray and know that our prayer has been heard and will be answered. I can humbly say I have known this in my own experience. All we have to do is wait patiently until the Lord's time comes. I often say there are three answers to our prayers: yes, no, and wait. It is the waiting that is the testing time.

We can judge how deep the comfort and consolation of these words went into that wounded heart. Several years later she herself uses almost these very words.

What a contrast. In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat, and weeps bitterly in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 "the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is that she had poured out her soul before the Lord... Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.

And yet, at the time, her circumstances were just the same. Afterwards, indeed, the Lord changed her circumstances, but first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah.

These words often refer in scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.

Hannah's faith at once lays hold of grace even before receiving its effects... This assurance of faith is enough to strengthen her heart and fill her with a joy that is visible to all.

He does not even ask why she is sad. He simply sends her away "in peace," with the wish that the God of Israel would grant her request. But even though Eli showed no real interest, she takes his words as coming from the Lord. That is a precious sign of her faith. Her sadness lifted, and she went back to normal living.

As we pour out our complaint and roll our burden on the Lord, He lifts the burden. Our sorrow and distress turns into the peace that passes all understanding... So it was with Hannah. That peace, beyond understanding, kept her soul and changed her face. It reminds us of our own blessed Lord. "As He prayed, the appearance of His face was altered." I know the meaning there is quite different, and those circumstances were special and extraordinary. But in a certain sense it is true of us too. As we pray — truly pray — the look on our face changes.

Do we have a secret sorrow? An adversary who provokes us deeply (verse 6)? Anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret (verse 6)? Anything that grieves our hearts (verse 8)? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears (verse 10)? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace. And a glad heart will make a glad face... The heart at peace, and filled with the gladness of the Lord, is the heart that worships.

How often we carry our sorrows instead of pouring them out before the One who came into this world of weeping. He came to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Have we a secret sorrow? An adversary who provokes us bitterly? Anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret? Anything that grieves our hearts? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace. And a glad heart will make a glad face. As we read, "her face was no longer sad." The heart at peace, filled with the gladness of the Lord, is the heart that worships. So with Hannah we read that she "worshiped before the LORD."

Hannah's night of mourning is over. The word had gone out: "The God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him." As yet there was no sign or token, but she rested in the spoken word. The words about her New Testament counterpart fit her too: "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord" (Luke 1:45).

The first thing is that husband and wife worship together. It is a happy thing when the home has this character. Husband and wife give themselves to the Lord's interests. They can worship together, pray together, and think about the Lord's interests together. What a happy home that is! The Lord's blessing is there. There is a response to the Lord. They care for the Lord's interests there, and the Lord is welcome in a home like that... Think of a God who hears our prayers and takes account of the motives and the desires.

First she learned that the Lord can sustain her in the circumstances and make her a worshipper despite them. Then the mercy of the Lord changes the circumstances by granting what she asked. She had prayed, "O LORD of hosts... remember me"; now we read, "the LORD remembered her." She gets a son — the boy she had asked for. The child that she receives from the Lord she gives back to the Lord.

They returned to Ramah, and very soon she conceived a child. For we read, "the LORD remembered her." At his birth she named him "Samuel," meaning "asked of God." She had waited long, but faith can afford to wait. God answered in His own time, and the evidence was clear that this was His sovereign work.

Hannah is the one who represents the work of God. She lives at Ramathaim-zophim, "the heights of watching." She is watching for what God will do, and the concerns of her heart match what she sees... We may have to wait. We may have to pass through reproach and misunderstanding, suffering and perhaps persecution as Hannah did. But depend on it: if the concerns of our hearts line up with the light God has given, He will answer.

They returned to Ramah. Very soon she conceived a child, for Scripture says, "the LORD remembered her." At his birth she named him "Samuel," meaning "asked of God." She had waited long, yet faith can afford to wait. God answered in His own time, and the evidence was clear that this was His sovereign work.

The night of Hannah's mourning is ended. The word had gone out: "the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him." She still had no sign or token. Yet she rested in the spoken word. We can say of her what Scripture says of her New Testament counterpart: "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord" (Luke 1:45).

His mother, Hannah, had asked for a son, and God had granted her request. She gave him the name 'Samuel', which means 'asked of God' or 'heard by God'. Both were true. She asked for him, and God heard and answered her prayer. She also passed on to her son her own sense of the value of fervent prayer. Samuel was a man of prayer, as seen in the occasions on which he interceded for Israel.

Here was a true heart. To such a person, blessing from God was only the occasion, and also the means, of returning that blessing to Him. Jehovah was the object of her soul. Who can suppose that there was any lack of affection for Samuel? She gave Samuel all the affection her heart could give a child, and a child born like this. But she held him with something more: a special sense of what the Lord had proved Himself to be to her in giving him.

The birth of Samuel filled a great blank. It filled the heart of Hannah, and no doubt the heart of every faithful Israelite who longed for the true interests of the Lord's house and the purity of the Lord's offering. The godless sons of Eli disregarded and trampled on both. In Hannah's desire for a son, we see not merely the heart of a mother, but that of an Israelite.

In the hidden and bitter exercises of soul that this godly, unknown woman went through lay the beginning of revival for Israel. A praying woman brought in, in the ways of God, a new era.

After all the evil recorded in the book of Judges, was not Shiloh still the only place the Lord owned as His dwelling place? The ark was still there, and those who sought the Lord, like Elkanah, came there. There Hannah prayed and worshipped. There she brought her young child. There she rejoiced in the Lord.

Elkanah goes up yearly to worship and to sacrifice before the Lord at Shiloh. There we find Hophni and Phinehas, two wicked men, as we know from 1 Samuel 2:12, serving as priests of the Lord. Eli, the high priest, was a man of much personal piety. Yet he comes before us as a weakened old man sitting by a post of the temple, mistaking the deep prayer of a godly soul for the ramblings of a drunken woman. Sitting where God had provided no seat points to a lack of spiritual energy. His mistake about Hannah points to a lack of spiritual discernment.

Elkanah was a descendant of the rebellious Korah — the Korah who was destroyed with all his company for his rebellion in the wilderness. Yet we read, "But the sons of Korah did not die" (Numbers 26:11). A debtor to mercy alone, he had good cause to worship. Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. This was no formal or meaningless ceremony for him. He knew that the Lord's distinguishing grace had given him not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence as a descendant of one of the spared children of Korah. Knowing grace, and owning it, is what produces worship and obedience in the believer's life.

The Israelites were not told to make vows, but if they voluntarily made them, God said they must carefully perform them. Man is always ready to boast of his strength, not being conscious of his own weakness. Israel, on hearing the law, did not hesitate to say, "All that the LORD has spoken we will do;" but they failed badly. The law made vows binding, and gave directions for exceptional cases where it was impossible to keep them (Numbers 30:2-14; Deuteronomy 23:21-23).

Elkanah and the rest of his household went up to Shiloh for the yearly offering. Hannah remained at home with her little child. She decided to go only when Samuel was weaned, so that she could leave him there with Eli... It is precious to see her purpose of heart in carrying out her vow. It would be no small sacrifice to give up the child she had longed for so much and loved so deeply. But to her the Lord's interests came first.

Here was a true heart. To such a person blessing from God was only the occasion, as it was the means, of returning that blessing to Him. The Lord was the object of her soul. Who can suppose that there was any lack of affection for Samuel?

She did not go up again to Shiloh until the child was weaned. Then she went up to fulfil her vow and presented him to the Lord. Before Samuel could begin to serve the Lord he had to be weaned. "A weaned child no longer cries, frets, and longs for the breast. It lies still and is content, because it is with its mother. In the same way the soul must be weaned from all discontented thoughts and from all fretful desires for earthly good. It waits in stillness on God, finds its satisfaction in His presence, and rests peacefully in His arms." He was brought up in the sanctuary and became that solid, earnest, prayerful man of God. It is the weaning and the sanctuary that every servant of Christ still needs.

Elkanah went up to worship, but Hannah stayed at home. She said, "I am going to wean the child." It would have been very easy for her to give the child at once. "No," she said, "I will wean the child." Mothers know that weaning a child takes a long time. In that time the child gets entwined in the affections. The child becomes part of the mother, more and more so, as she cares for him before the weaning comes. I believe this shows the extent of the sacrifice Hannah made. She handed him over to the Lord thoroughly weaned.

Samuel is born to be in a special way the servant of the Lord. But he must be weaned before he can become this. We cannot help thinking of Psalm 131 here: "But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me." As Perowne says, "A weaned child no longer cries, frets, and longs for the breast. It lies still and is content, because it is with its mother. In the same way my soul is weaned from all discontented thoughts and from all fretful desires of earthly good. It waits in stillness upon God, finds its satisfaction in His presence, and rests peacefully in His arms." This is surely what is required for proper service: the childlike spirit, but the spirit of a weaned child.

Here we find a mother who brings her child to the Lord. What is her aim? First, that he should appear before Him; second, that he should stay there for ever. This ought to be the great aim of all parenting and the bringing up of our children. First of all, they should appear before the Lord. In other words, they should accept Jesus as their Saviour and so come to know Him. Second, they should stay with Him for ever. In other words, they should accept Him as their Lord, the one they want to follow and serve.

"Therefore also I have lent him to the Lord," she adds: "as long as he lives he shall be lent to the Lord." "Lent" should rather be "given." She did not cling to him for herself. She did not make a scene at parting with the loved and lovable "son of her vows." She gives him up freely and gladly. Was it not for this very purpose that she waited long and prayed earnestly? She was not one of those who make a vow and afterwards regret it.

Hannah waited until Samuel was weaned. How good it is to bring into the house of God affections that are weaned from the resources of this world. Look at the fullness of what is brought in: "three bulls, and an ephah of flour, and a skin of wine." I do not wonder that worship follows. That is the highest service of all.

We can imagine that it was not an easy thing for Hannah to leave her boy, whom she loved so much, in Shiloh. However, she knew this was according to God's will and to her own promise. Children are a wonderful gift of grace from the Lord. But to a certain extent they are only given "on loan." It would be selfish of us to want to keep them for ourselves. They belong to the Lord. If the Lord wants to use them for Himself, we should count it a privilege to give them to Him.

Elkanah's own faith had less energy than his wife's. Still he says, "May the LORD establish His word." That shows he shared her expectation, at least in some measure, that blessing would come to Israel through the child Hannah's prayer had won. His words suggest he hoped God would give Samuel some special mission. Like his noble wife, he expected better days for God's people through the birth of this son.

Hannah goes up at the proper time, when the child was weaned — not before... Here was a true heart. For a woman like this, God's blessing was only the occasion, and the means, of giving that blessing back to Him. The Lord was the object of her soul. Who can suppose that she loved Samuel any less? She could well gather — and she was right — that such a child was not born for nothing: hers was a son given for God's purposes in Israel.

It would have been very easy for her to give the child at once. "No," she said, "I will wean the child." Mothers know that weaning is a long process, and during it the child becomes wound around the mother's affections... To me this shows how great a sacrifice Hannah made. She handed him over to the Lord fully weaned.

Samuel is born in a special way to be the servant of the Lord; but he must be weaned before he can become this. We cannot help thinking here of Psalm 131: "like a weaned child is my soul within me." As Perowne puts it: "A weaned child no longer cries, frets, and longs for the breast. It lies still and is content, because it is with its mother. In the same way my soul is weaned from all discontented thoughts and from all restless desires for earthly good. It waits quietly on God, finds its satisfaction in His presence, and rests peacefully in His arms." This is what proper service calls for: the childlike spirit — but the spirit of a weaned child.

Once believers discover what Christ can be to their hearts, and let Him take first place there... every attraction and enticement this world can offer will lose its power. This weaned state is in this way the effect of enjoying Christ Himself.

First, she nursed her young son (1:23). In spiritual terms, we must give our children spiritual food for their souls. It is never too early to feed them with such food, the "pure spiritual milk of the word" (1 Pet. 2:2)... Also, breast milk is formed ahead of time, and inside the mother. There is no spiritual version of fast food or a ready meal. Our children will be blessed only as we give them something that has first grown in us, that we have experienced and practised ourselves.

Second, Hannah weaned her son (1 Sam. 1:23). Our children cannot depend only on spiritual food from their parents forever. We have to "wean" them. They need to learn to stand on their own two feet, and feed themselves spiritually. They need to build up their own close relationship to the Lord Jesus.

It was pure grace on God's part that Samuel became what he was. Yet Hannah also saw the human side: responsibility, which stands together with God's grace. She did not lean on God's grace and use it as an excuse to neglect her duty toward the heritage God had given her.

It would have been very easy for her to give the child at once. "No," she said, "I will wean the child." Mothers know that weaning takes a long time. In those years the child takes root in the mother's affections. The child becomes part of the mother. I believe this shows how great a sacrifice Hannah made. She handed him over to the Lord thoroughly weaned.

When Hannah had weaned the child, she took him to Shiloh, and on the ground of sacrifice dedicated him to the Lord. The slain bullock for the burnt offering speaks of Christ in the complete devotedness of His death. The ephah of flour speaks of what He was in His lowly manhood under the eye of God. The bottle of wine speaks of the joy that God always found in Him. So, in this picture, the boy Samuel was presented to the Lord in the value of all that Christ is to God.

One of the bullocks is sacrificed and the child brought to Eli. She knew this was important. We never read of a child rightly presented to the Lord without some symbol of the death of Christ going with it. Only on the ground of that death can any human being be acceptable to God.

When God answers her request with the gift of Samuel, she does not take back her offer. This humble wife of Elkanah the Levite brings a costly sacrifice to the Lord: "three bullocks, and one ephah of flour, and a flask of wine." Yet it is nothing beside the gift of Samuel. She parts with her only son, the son God Himself had given her, the one she had "asked of God." So she shows that God was more precious to her than the son she had wanted so much.

Hannah waited until Samuel was weaned. How blessed to bring into the house of God affections which are weaned from the resources of this world. Look at the fullness of what she brings in: "three bullocks, and one ephah of flour, and a bottle of wine." No wonder worship follows. That is the highest service of all.

There were two things very striking in the case of Samuel. He had been first weaned before he was presented to the Lord in Shiloh. You see that man of importance, who fails to hear the voice of the Lord in the assembly gathered to Him in Shiloh. Ah, he never was weaned. Have you been weaned, or did you take a place at Shiloh with your heart still linked with the world and like it in your ways?

Away in Mount Ephraim a man named Elkanah lived with his wife Hannah. They were deeply attached to each other. Their one sorrow at home was that Hannah had no children. This godly, unknown woman went through hidden and bitter struggles of soul. In those struggles lay the beginning of revival for Israel. A praying woman brought in, in the ways of God, a new era.

Blood had to be shed for Samuel so that he might be before God.

So we see that Samuel was not only CALLED, but CLEANSED. Before God could call any of us, blood had to be shed — not the blood of a bull, but the blood of Jesus. And all need to be cleansed by His precious blood. There is no salvation apart from it. Nothing else can take away your sins.

Hannah knew this was important. We never read of any child being rightly presented to the Lord without some symbol of the death of Christ. Only on the ground of that death can any human being be acceptable to God.

Notice, too, that the parents "slaughtered the bull and brought the child to Eli." We can only give our children back to the Lord through death. It is an admission that they deserve only death, but that Another died for them.

The slain bull for the burnt offering speaks of Christ in the absolute devotedness of His death. The ephah of flour speaks of what He was in His lowly manhood under the eye of God. The bottle of wine speaks of the joy that God ever found in Him. So, in picture, the boy Samuel was presented to Jehovah in the value of all that Christ is to God.

"She took him up with her, with three bulls, and one ephah of flour, and a bottle of wine... And they slaughtered a bull." There was openness of heart: did anything seem too good for the Lord?

Mothers know that weaning a child is a long process. The child gets entwined in the affections... I believe this shows the extent of the sacrifice that Hannah made. She handed him over to the Lord fully weaned.

She was returning him to the Lord, not for a time only, but permanently. We may well doubt that Eli could give him the same solid moral training and care that Hannah could. But by faith she was putting him into the Lord's hands, and the Lord cared for him despite Eli's inadequacy. In fact, the short time that Hannah had him no doubt left a lasting impression on his young heart that affected his whole life.

Hannah not only brought him to the place, but also to the Lord. Many in this day may have been brought to the place, but not to the Person of the Lord.

Here is worship, fellowship in worship. Hannah and her husband worshipped; Eli, as he saw the result of the prayer, worshipped. What a wonderful thing prayer is.

She vowed that if God would hear her prayer and give her a son, she would give him to Jehovah all the days of his life, and no razor would ever touch his head. God heard her prayer, and she became the mother of Samuel (which means "asked of God"). When he was weaned, she gave him to serve Eli the priest. He was "lent" or "returned" to the Lord who gave him: see 1 Sam. 1:28, margin.

"Lent" is better translated "given." She did not selfishly cling to him, nor make a scene at her parting with the loved and lovable "son of her vows" (Prov. 31:2). She gives him up freely, gladly, for was it not for this very purpose that she waited long and prayed earnestly? She was not one of those who make a vow and later go back on it (Eccl. 5:4–5).

Here was a true heart. To such a person, blessing from God was only the occasion, as it was the means, of returning that blessing to Him. Jehovah was the object of her soul. Who can suppose that there was any lack of affection for Samuel? … She could well conclude that such a child was not born for nothing — that hers was a son given for the purposes of God in Israel. And she was right, for the secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him.

Three years old is said to have been the age of weaning among the Hebrews. If this was Samuel's age when Hannah left him with Eli, then leaving her child at the tabernacle so young shows how deeply devoted she was to the interests of Jehovah and His worship. But "all things are possible for one who believes," and faith rises above nature. She gave him gladly, and surely with the assurance that the Lord had need of him, and would use him to honour His great and glorious name in Israel.

These precious gifts must be given back — "loaned" (see New Translation) "to the Lord" as long as they live. … Then, as we realise Whose they are, we will feel our responsibility more solemnly. We will also know more deeply the One Who is ready and willing to give the infinite grace, patience and wisdom needed to train them for Himself. Notice, too, that the parents "slaughtered the bull, and they brought the child to Eli." We can only give our children back to the Lord through death, an acknowledgement that they only deserve death, but that Another died for them.

So Samuel was dedicated to the Lord, at the place the Lord had chosen for His name — a place that had been almost forgotten. Hannah not only brought him to the place, but also to the Lord. Many in this day may have been brought to the place, but not to the Person of the Lord.

If this refers to Samuel, it would argue that he was considerably more than three years old. The Revised Version notes that several ancient copies read they instead of he. If that is correct, it gives a beautiful picture of the whole company — Eli, Hannah, her husband, and others — praising the God of Israel together for this gift of His love to the nation.

The first expression of his service had been to worship before the Lord (1 Sam. 1:28); the worshipper's altar is the last expression of his service. Is not this life of faith fittingly framed by these two acts?

When she poured out her request in sorrow, "only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard." She prayed "in secret" to Him who "hears in secret," and He had rewarded her "openly." But this prayer becomes a song of joyful praise. She really does have glorious things to tell about Him who is awesome in His praises. Her song begins by celebrating the glorious perfections of the LORD.

"My heart exults in the LORD," she sings. Her joy was not so much in the gift (Samuel) as in God the Giver. Hers was not a merely natural joy, but the joy of the Lord, a joy of the Spirit. How often we are more occupied with the thing given than with Him who graciously gave it. Not so with Hannah here... she rises above the level of nature to the LORD Himself. She speaks only of Him, not once mentioning the child whose birth gave occasion to it all.

She had barely held him in her arms before she had to part with him and set him apart for God. Her life was to be more lonely than ever... Yet Hannah is full of a joy which overflows in a song of triumph. This is because God had revealed Himself to her in grace. He had revealed Himself again to His faithful servant. She had received everything from Him, kept back nothing for herself, and returned everything to Him. Having given up her son, she understands better all that God is in Himself.

"My horn is exalted in the LORD," is her second word. Older translations of 1 Chronicles 25:5 say that the sons of Heman were appointed "to lift up the horn." They were... the temple-court musicians. Their task was to lift up the horn, to sound out the praises of the God of Israel. So Hannah declares her horn exalted in the LORD. She does not blow the trumpet to her own praise, as the Pharisees of a later, more favoured day did. She lifts it to celebrate the infinite perfections of Him who alone is worthy.

Along with joy, Hannah found strength: "my horn is exalted in the LORD." This power "is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9). She has turned her back on all that is high, on everything of renown in Israel. So God shares this strength with a weak woman, humiliated and despised.

It is Israel's and God's enemies she has in view, not Peninnah. Speaking for all Israel, she looks on in faith to the time when the enemies of her people... would be brought under, as under the rule of David... This rescue of Israel from her enemies was still many days away. But faith sees it as done already, and Hannah rejoices in it beforehand.

You say, how can we sing, with things in such a state and judgment close at hand? It was the same when Hannah sang that song of Shiloh. She was like a lark. You might say to the lark, How can you sing? Do you not see the fog on the ground? This is how I sing, the lark would say — higher and higher, far above the fog, in the blue sky above. So sang Hannah, higher and higher still. As the sun fills the sky of the lark, so the Lord Himself was before her soul.

This is a wonderful outpouring of faith. Its language goes far beyond the circumstances of the moment. The gift of a son to Hannah, we might suppose, hardly called for this. But God always has Christ before His mind. Through Samuel's mother, a humble instrument, His Spirit spoke of Christ as the final resource of Israel and of the earth.

Having spoken of her joy and triumph, her song proper now begins. She makes no more mention of herself; it is all the Lord, in His character and wonderful ways. She speaks His name nine times in her song of ten verses. She seems wholly lost in Him... When believers praise and thank God, they may be too taken up with their own concerns — their needs and circumstances. This is not the highest form of worship. It is not what occupies Hannah here. She rises above her own blessings. She is taken up with the varied and majestic attributes of God.

His holiness is first: "There is none holy like the LORD," she says. Holiness has first place in this cluster of glories. It is, we may say, one of the essential attributes of Deity; and without it, who could adore or even reverence Him? Yet it is the very trait of His nature to which men are most averse, and which they are most likely to overlook. He has therefore reminded us over and over again in His Word that He is holy. In this attribute of His being He is incomparable.

How soon we may slip away from this; how soon we get occupied with men! Such was the Person of the Holy One to her, that He exceeded all others. What an exclusion, and what a song!

Then she said, "there is no rock like our God." Look at Deuteronomy 32 and see how often that chapter calls God a Rock. Then think of the other rocks — the rocks of the nations, their idols, their support. Think of the huge contrast between God and them... "Our God" she said. This indicated some sense of relationship in her soul. She thought of God's stability, God's permanence. Nobody could overthrow God. Nothing could overthrow God. He is able in His power to bring into effect what He desires.

Recognizing that all blessing depends on God, she rightly begins by celebrating His glories. God is holy — "There is none holy like the LORD." God is omnipotent — "there is none besides you." God is eternal — "there is no rock like our God."

None is holy as He; no, none can be put beside Him: the rock is a faint image of His faithfulness, who is not simply her — but "our" — God.

Verse 2 celebrates the Lord's holiness. The believer cannot separate these two things. Anyone who has found God as Saviour understands that He is "holy... for there is none besides Him." But we must be holy to belong to Him. This is why He has sanctified us for Himself. From now on, all our conduct should show this.

We cannot go into God's presence and pray for His interests while we hold thoughts of revenge or anger against our fellow believers. We must clear all these things out of our minds and consciences... That subdues us when we go into the presence of God, when we remember that He is holy. There cannot be any levity in His presence, there cannot be anything that speaks of man and his glory in His presence.

This was the case with Peninnah. With proud contempt and scorn for Hannah's tenderness of conscience, she took this public chance to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This intensified not only her grief but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.

Being all-knowing, He is unerring in His estimate of men. He does not simply take note of what people do. He weighs their thoughts in the balances of the sanctuary.

What are men in the face of such glory as this? He sharply reproves their great pride and arrogance, for the LORD is a God of knowledge also. He is all-knowing as well as all-powerful. He sees and weighs every activity in the scale of pure righteousness. He understands every motive.

The foundation of everything is the known and enjoyed salvation of the Lord. Because of this her heart rejoices in Him — and, like the heavenly hosts, in His holiness. Without His salvation, what use is the natural prosperity of Peninnah, or even the high position of the priests? Not these outward things, but actions will be weighed, for the Lord is a God of knowledge.

There are many passages in the word of God that tell us God is a heart-knowing God. We might come before Him with very correct expressions, but it may not be true of our hearts. God knows the heart, and by Him actions are weighed. The story the Lord told in Luke 18 speaks of two men who went up to the temple to pray. One said, "God, I thank you that I am not like other men." He went on to say he was a very good man. By our standards he was a very good man — though a proud and arrogant one. But the other could not lift his face to heaven. He beat his chest and declared what he truly was in the presence of God. God heard him and answered his prayer, because He is a heart-knowing God.

It should also remind us of the truth the godly woman Hannah stated in her prayer, recorded in 1 Samuel 2: "the LORD is a God of knowledge, and by Him actions are weighed." We seek to serve the Lord. When He weighs our actions, how will they appear — weighty, or of little worth?

A wonderful outpouring of faith. Its language goes far beyond the circumstances of the moment. We might suppose the gift of a son to Hannah hardly called for this. But God always has Christ before His mind. Through Samuel's mother, His humble instrument, His Spirit spoke of Him as the ultimate resource of Israel and of the earth.

The bows of the mighty are broken: their weapons of war are no more; those who stumbled from sheer weakness are, on the other hand, given a strength that girds or braces them up for activity.

Man may have a bow, but in his hands it fails when he uses it. "The sons of Ephraim, armed bowmen, turned back on the day of battle" (Ps. 78:9), and as for the Lord's enemies, "the bow of the mighty is broken" (1 Sam. 2:4; Ps. 46:9; Jer. 49:35; Hosea 1:5; Hosea 2:18).

Hannah expands on God's sovereignty. Then she lists the sudden changes, the good fortune and the reverses of life. The mighty who seemed unbeatable suffer defeat. Those who stumble in weakness, as if about to fall, rise all at once to strength and victory... Men of the world are self-sufficient. They say with Napoleon that "God is on the side of the heaviest battalions." But no. When it suits His purpose, "the lame take the prey" (Isa. 33:23).

No doubt this flowed out of her own experience. She knew what it was to be made strong out of weakness. She knew in her own soul what the intervention of divine power was; but the Spirit of God never stops at experience... Anyone who does not know what experience is can hardly be thought to have a real knowledge of God. But the one who stops short of God's object is in danger of being either clouded or self-satisfied.

In the spiritual realm, felt weakness is power, as the Apostle lets us know in 2 Corinthians 12. As Hannah also said, "the feeble bind on strength" (1 Sam. 2:4). Is it not a strange lesson to have to learn that our self-sufficiency is our undoing? God can use those who are "not anything," that is, nothing (1 Cor. 3:7). God alone counts, whether now or in ages past. When weakness calls Him in, all is well.

Then she celebrates the sovereign grace of God that picks up, for blessing, the weak, the needy, and the unfruitful. Those who are "feeble," and "hungry," and "barren." God passes by the wise, the mighty, and the noble. He takes up the low and the despised of the world, so that no one can boast in His presence.

In the beautiful song of 1 Samuel 2 Hannah recognises this great principle of sovereign grace and of the power of God. He brings down the proud and those who trust in the flesh, and He lifts up the weak and powerless... Israel was poor and fallen, a feeble remnant waiting for Jehovah. They needed to learn that everything hung upon God and God alone. He did not look for power in man. He shows His power in His own dealings by destroying all His enemies, and at last He will "give strength to His king and exalt the horn of His anointed."

In the circumstances of people's lives we also see the sovereignty of God: "Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger." This is not always because they are careless or wasteful. Nor do others, once hungry, stop lacking just because they work harder or spend more carefully. These are often only secondary causes. Behind them all is the purpose of the supreme Ruler of the universe, and not one small sparrow falls dead to the ground without Him. It is not "luck," or "fortune," good or bad.

Then she celebrates the sovereign grace of God that picks up the weak, the needy, and the unfruitful and blesses them — those who have "stumbled," and are "hungry," and "barren." God passes by the wise, the mighty, and the noble. He takes up the lowly and the despised of the world, so that no human being can boast in His presence (4, 5).

"The barren has borne." Hannah has her own circumstances before her; but the language even here goes out beyond her experience. She did not literally bear seven. But we see how far the Spirit of God can dwell on the one child whose birth awakens all the rest to faith. The "seven" clearly means divine completeness, which we never can have on this side of Christ.

This grace goes so far as to give seven children to the barren woman — the perfect number, which Hannah never reached (v. 21), for she had only six children. The promised blessings will not reach their fullness until the glory that is in store for the restored remnant of Israel.

The bows of the mighty will be broken, the full become empty, the fruitful grow weak. Grace, on the other hand, raises the fallen and strengthens them, the hungry are satisfied, the barren made joyful with children. So the way of the Lord is to humble those He will exalt, to bring low those He will lift up. Where man's purpose and pride wither, faith can grow.

In the beautiful song of 1 Samuel 2 Hannah recognises this great principle of sovereign grace, and of the power of God; that He brings down the proud and those who trust in the flesh, and exalts the weak and helpless... This was what Israel, poor and fallen, and a feeble remnant waiting for Jehovah, needed to learn; that everything hung upon God and God alone, who did not seek for power in man, but shows it in His own dealings.

God reverses situations... instead of being persecuted she was in a place of peace, of blessing; instead of being barren she had a son whom she could give to the Lord... There is no need to accept a situation as it stands, whether personally, or in our homes, or in our meetings. We can do something — we can pray to God to change things.

God's sovereignty reaches to life and death themselves. Our coming into the world is completely under His control. Once born, our life is in His hand, and death also answers to His will. This is the sobering statement of the prophet Daniel before the godless king Belshazzar: "the God in whose hand is your breath." He is "the sovereign Lord of life and death." He kills; death is His black-winged messenger. He is the One who returns "man to dust" and says, "Return, O children of man!" (Ps. 90:3). On "the last day" His voice will reach all who sleep in the grave. He "makes alive," and "brings up" from the grave. Resurrection is the sovereign act of His power.

Death and decay disappeared, and Lazarus, still wrapped in grave-clothes, came out. This great sign, the sixth that John records, showed the glory of God, since the giving of life is His glorious prerogative. Brutish man can kill all too easily: only God can "kill and make alive" (see 1 Sam. 2:6; 2 Kings 5:7).

To Festus it was all the fantasy of a disturbed mind, for the gods he worshipped held no power beyond the grave. Weak man can kill and bring someone down to the grave. That is an easy thing. Only of the living God can anyone say, "The LORD kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up" (1 Sam. 2:6).

For it is the Lord Himself who is able to kill, and able to make alive. He knows how to bring one down even to the grave. He is just as able to bring up. Hannah had learned something of this resurrection power of God in her own body. She recognizes that only God's work accomplishes anything. Some He makes poor, others He makes rich. He will often bring one down so that He can lift him up later.

Moreover, God has His own way of dealing with us to make us conscious of our need. He rolls in death upon the soul to make alive. He brings us near to the grave that we may learn our utter weakness. He strips us of everything we trust in, making us poor to make us rich. He brings us low in our thoughts of self, to lift us up (6, 7).

Hannah's beautiful song is the soul's thankful acknowledgement of how God acts toward Israel. She sings of the LORD who kills and brings to life, who makes poor and makes rich, who raises the poor from the dust and seats the needy with princes. God will work all this out most fully in Israel in the latter day. He works it out now in everyone whom grace raises from his ruined condition in nature to blessedness and peace in Jesus.

Riches and poverty are alike at His disposal: "The LORD makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts." He gives the one or the other as suits His purpose. Knowing this should keep the rich humble, and make the poor content. Dear fellow believer, let us "be content with what you have," as Scripture urges us. For our God has revealed Himself to us in grace, and He has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Heb. 13:5).

He rules or overrules the hearts of all men, and the whole realm of human thought and action. He rules public opinion in all its forms, at all times, with all the characters great and small who figure in it. So He orders the rise and fall of nations, the course of their histories and the extent of their territories... "The king's heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will" (Prov. 21:1). "For not from the east or from the west and not from the wilderness comes lifting up, but it is God who executes judgment, putting down one and lifting up another" (Ps. 75:6-7).

God has His own way of dealing with us to make us conscious of our need. He brings death in upon the soul to make it alive. He brings us near the grave so that we may learn our utter weakness. He strips us of everything we trust in, making us poor to make us rich. He brings us low in our thoughts of self, to lift us up.

This is God's way of acting. He never honours us while we are thinking that we are something. Deep humbling has often come before great blessing — sometimes humbling even in the eyes of others. We were brought low, and the Lord lifted us up.

How well verse 8 fits the gospel of the grace of God! That grace reaches down to the poorest of the poor. It raises him out of the dust of his broken, sinful state. It lifts the beggar from the rubbish heap of a corrupted life, to set him among princes, in dignity above the level of the world. And greater still, it makes him inherit the throne of glory. This reminds us of the words of the Lord Jesus in Revelation 3:21: "The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne."

Hannah's beautiful song is the soul's thankful acknowledgement of how God has acted towards Israel... All this will be seen in full in Israel in the latter day. It is seen now in everyone whom grace has raised from his ruined condition in nature to blessedness and peace in Jesus.

In the beautiful song of 1 Samuel 2, Hannah recognises this great principle of sovereign grace and of the power of God. He brings down the proud and those who trust in the flesh, and He lifts up the weak and powerless. "For the pillars of the earth are the LORD's, and on them He has set the world." Israel was poor and fallen, a feeble remnant waiting for the LORD. This is what they needed to learn: everything hung upon God and God alone. He did not look for power in man. He shows His power in the way He acts, destroying all His enemies, and He will at last give strength to His king and lift up the power of His anointed. The song is a prophecy of God's ways with Israel. It reaches from the moment Hannah spoke it to the setting up of the thousand-year kingdom in the Person of the Lord Jesus.

Hannah next ascribes to God almighty power: "For the pillars of the earth are the LORD's, and on them He has set the world." This is a poetic figure of speech, though none the less forceful for that. Who but the One whose "strength is infinite" could hold this globe up and keep it moving in its circuit, as if it weighed no more than "the small dust of the balance"? Job 26:7 puts it beautifully: "He hangs the earth on nothing." In His wisdom, grace, and power, He is able to keep us without falling: "He will keep the feet of His saints."

Having shown us our nothingness He unfolds to us His fulness — the purpose of His heart. Not only does He meet our need but He changes our condition — the beggar becomes a prince. Further, He gives us a new position suited to the new condition. From "the dust" and "the dunghill" we pass to "the throne of glory." In all these blessed ways He acts as sovereign.

Notice only this: God gives this honour to the poor and the beggar, and to them alone. The conditions are binding. Grace has no voice for any but the poor and the beggar. She seeks for those who know themselves to be spiritually destitute. She has nothing for the proud.

And yet none shall reach the throne but those whom grace finds in the dust. To go into the dust is repentance. Repentance is both the requirement for blessing and the step up to it. Happy the soul that is in the dust!

Scripture illustrates this all the way from Joseph to Lazarus. God raised the first from slavery to rule over Egypt. The second was a beggar on earth, and he was taken to "Abraham's bosom" in paradise.

How consistent verse 8 is with the gospel of the grace of God! Grace reaches down to the poorest of the poor. It raises him out of the dust of his broken, sinful state. It lifts the beggar from the dunghill of a corrupted life and sets him among princes, in dignity above the level of the world. Greater still, it makes him inherit the throne of glory. This reminds us of the words of the Lord Jesus in Revelation 3:21: "The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne."

Prophecy is God's special intervention, and it applied to His people when they had failed. So when Shiloh was overthrown and the ark taken, God raised up Samuel… The prophets showed the people their sins, and they kept pointing to the Messiah, the great Deliverer. So it is in Hannah's song (1 Sam. 2:9-10). There Jehovah's sovereign rule over the world and the lifting up of the Messiah are fully shown.

There is one anxious question some of my readers might like to ask Hannah. Is it this: "Could my feet slip so far, could I fail so badly, that I am lost after all? Instead of the throne of glory, with my Lord and like Him, could I sink at last to the lowest hell?" What does the inspired Hannah say? Listen: "He will keep the feet of His saints." Not "I," but "He," "will keep the feet of His saints."

The people of God have a glorious inheritance ahead of them, and God's power keeps them for it. "He will keep the feet of His saints." In their own power they cannot stand against "the wicked" and "the adversaries of the Lord," for "by strength shall no man prevail." In the Lord's safe keeping they need not fear, for He will silence the wicked and break His adversaries in pieces (1 Peter 1:3-5).

Every day the Lord Himself applies the Word to heart and conscience. He keeps the feet of His saints. He cleanses them with the washing of water by the Word, from the dirt they pick up as they pass through this polluted scene.

Child of God, weak, failing, and needing much mercy, rejoice in what our Saviour has said: "They will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:28). And may the certainty of this make you not more careless in your walk, but more careful not to grieve such love. For if He keeps the feet of His saints, His eye is upon them. He sees every misstep they make, and notices when they wander into forbidden paths.

The judgment of the sinner is sure, though God bears long with him in his rebellion and unbelief. "Where is the God of justice?" men ask today, as they unbelievingly asked long ago (Mal. 2:17). We answer, He is bearing long with man's refusal to repent. But His Word declares He "will by no means clear the guilty"… Small man would block the carrying out of His judgments. Yet though people join hands to resist God's purposes… "by strength shall no man prevail."

It is a mistake to apply Ps. 31:17, 1 Sam. 2:9, Ps. 63:11, Matt. 22:13, to souls in torment.

The great principle in Hannah's song is the sovereign grace and power of God. He brings down the proud man who trusts in himself, and He lifts up the weak and powerless… Israel was miserable and fallen, and the faithful remnant was poor and weak. They needed to learn that everything depended on Him alone. He alone could keep the feet of His saints, silence the wicked, and bring all man's strength to nothing. He alone could break all His adversaries and, last of all, give strength to His King and raise up the horn of His Anointed… He does not give strength to His people, but to His Anointed.

Verse 10 could only be said through divine inspiration. At that time there was no king in Israel. There was no suggestion of a king. Yet here was Hannah speaking about a king, speaking about the Lord's anointed. It was fulfilled in part in David, the son of Jesse. It will be fulfilled fully in Jesus, the Son of God — God's king, God's anointed — when every adversary will be overthrown and destroyed.

It is remarkable that both the expressions "The Lord of hosts" and "the Anointed" (Christ's title), often found further on in Scripture, are used first by Hannah, the once barren and sorrowful woman. Such are God's ways. He uses the things that are weak, and the things that are despised, to proclaim His praise, that no flesh may glory in His presence.

The horn speaks of exaltation and power. Zacharias, anticipating the birth of Christ, speaks of Him as "a horn of salvation" (Luke 1:69; see also Ps. 18:2; Ps. 75:10; Ps. 148:14). The anointed is the title of one appointed to rule. Christ, in His day, was anointed by the Holy Spirit, and the oil is a picture of the Spirit. In the day of His exaltation He will see the righteous judgment upon all His enemies.

Verse 10 predicts, as we have seen, the coming of Messiah, the true King. God will exalt the horn of His Anointed. Direct association with Him is the power granted to Hannah in verse 1: "My horn is exalted in the LORD."

It is clear to the spiritual mind that the Spirit of God is going a long way beyond the child of Hannah here. Samuel was to be among priests; he was not destined for the throne. But had he been, there is a strength and height of purpose here which goes far beyond an ordinary king. In fact nothing but Christ can meet what is here in the mind of the Spirit of God… "The adversaries of the LORD shall be broken to pieces; against them He will thunder in heaven." This looks onward to a greater day, even to the day of the LORD Himself.

Israel, miserable and fallen, and a faithful remnant that was poor and weak, needed to learn that everything depended on Him alone. He alone could keep the feet of His saints, silence the wicked, bring all man's strength to nothing, break all His adversaries and, last of all, give strength to His King and raise up the horn of His Anointed… He does not give strength to His people, but to His Anointed. He raises up the King on whom everything depends, the pivot of all things, the only means of sustaining a relationship between Himself and His people.

In verse 10 the next thing is the time of tribulation, when the adversaries of the LORD are broken to pieces. Then the judgment of the living: "The LORD will judge the ends of the earth." After this, the reign of Christ on earth.

This is the grand finale of Hannah's song… This is not Saul, nor even David, but He whom David in Spirit called "LORD." This "King" to whom the LORD gives "strength" is He who "was crucified in weakness." Now, all power on earth and in heaven is in His hand. In the coming day of His kingdom and power, the horn of His royalty will be exalted above the kings of the earth.

The phrase, "Then Elkanah went home to Ramah," comes straight after the end of Hannah's song. This suggests that she sang the song in front of the priest Eli and others at Shiloh. After this godly couple returned home, we read, "And the boy was ministering to the LORD in the presence of Eli the priest. Now the sons of Eli were worthless men. They did not know the LORD."

We can imagine that it was not an easy thing for Hannah to leave her boy, whom she loved so much, in Shiloh. However, she knew that this was according to God's will and to her own promise. Children are a wonderful gift of grace from the Lord, but to a certain extent they are only given 'on loan'. It would be selfish if we wanted to keep them for ourselves. They belong to the Lord.

Notice the wording. It does not say that he ministered to Eli before the Lord. It says the opposite: he ministered to the Lord in the presence of Eli. Though only a child himself, he ministered to the Lord. He was a little Levite indeed, serving the LORD as well as his infant years allowed. He cared for the things around "the tent of testimony," the holy vessels and utensils. All of them were meant to express God's glory in different pictures. Little Samuel was not there just as Eli's helper. He was in training for his life's work, and even in training he served with care.

Before Samuel could begin to serve the Lord he had to be weaned. "A weaned child no longer cries, frets, and longs for the breast. It lies still and is content, because it is with its mother. In the same way, the soul must be weaned from all discontented thoughts and from all restless desires for earthly things. It waits in stillness upon God, finds its satisfaction in His presence, and rests quietly in His arms." He began to minister at once to the Lord before Eli the priest. He grew up in the sanctuary and became that solid, earnest, prayerful man of God. It is the weaning and the sanctuary that every servant of Christ still needs.

When he was still only a small child, 1 Samuel 1:28 says of him: "And he worshiped the LORD there." In the same way, a newborn baby in Christ must at once take his place as a worshipper before Him. In 1 Samuel 2:11 his second act is this: "And the boy was ministering to the LORD in the presence of Eli the priest." This attitude will mark Samuel's whole life. But here he serves under Eli's direction. He was still very young, so he needed to learn before he could teach others.

Here we find a young boy, and he was with an old man, and in the old man's company he was going to learn something. As we learn from a later chapter, it was something he could not work out for himself; he was not old or mature enough to recognise the Lord's voice when He spoke to him, but he learned it through Eli the priest. The young and the old walked together.

In the middle of the gathering gloom, the Spirit of God sustains faith again and again. He gives us the sight of the rainbow. So we read, "the boy was ministering to the LORD" (11). Then the sky darkens as we get the terrible disclosures about the sin of the priests (12-17). But again we catch sight of the bow, for we read, "Samuel was ministering before the LORD, a boy … and the boy Samuel grew in the presence of the LORD" (18-21).

Does this not assure our hearts? However dark the day, God will maintain a testimony for Himself and He will sustain the faith of His true people. What is more, the repeated mention of "the child" shows the way God takes to maintain His testimony in a day of ruin. He passes by the self-appointed religious officials and takes up "the child" to be a witness to Himself.

The evil condition of the professing people of God under the priesthood of Eli shows itself in three fearful evils. The priesthood was defiled (12); the offering of the Lord was despised (17); and the tabernacle was desecrated (22)... Their office was to represent the people before the Lord. Yet these very men did not know the Lord. They used their position to enrich themselves at the expense of the people.

The Hebrew word means "worthless, lawless." It is not a proper name. It stands for evil itself. So we have "son of Belial, daughter of Belial," and so on, in Deuteronomy 13:13; Judges 19:22; 1 Samuel 1:16; 1 Samuel 25:17, 25. The New Testament sets it in contrast to Christ, as if it meant Satan, 2 Corinthians 6:15.

"But the sons of Eli," we read, "were sons of Belial." What a reflection on the name of Eli! At that time he was both high priest and supreme judge in Israel. His sons, the "sons of Belial!" Could anything be worse — children of "worthlessness and corruption"! Here we see the truth of the saying, "The corruption of the best is the worst of corruption."

Scripture says of these profane men, "They did not know the LORD." They held the office of priests, but their hearts were far from God. Later, Scripture says Samuel "did not yet know the LORD" (chap. 3:7). But that was a very different thing. He was on the way to knowing Him "whom to know is life eternal." These sons of Eli had hardened themselves beyond remedy. Only the just judgment of God was left for them.

The priest was the link between the Lord and the people. He was the appointed means, and no one else dared take up his duties. But this priest turned away from God in wickedness. He used his position to dishonour God even more. So the appointed way of speaking with God, and of being restored to Him, was gone. Hophni and Phinehas made the people sin.

They were sons of Belial. They did not know the Lord, and yet they served in the outward things of the sanctuary. It could only end in the worst corruption. They handled holy things and were wicked in heart and life. It has been well said, "a holiness that is only external is the worst unholiness."... An unholy, selfish ministry is the greatest stumbling block to the great mass of the people.

Along with this appalling picture of the wickedness of the priesthood in Israel, the Holy Spirit now shows us Samuel. He is a child ministering before the Lord, wearing a linen ephod. The parents are blessed too.

It has often been remarked that God never repairs a ruined order. Instead, He sets up something new in its place. It will bring even greater blessing to His people. It also marks a further step forward in His blessed ways.

They had started a custom completely foreign to Scripture. Their servant came with a three-pronged flesh hook and took from the people's offerings everything the hook brought up out of the boiling pot. God had stipulated what part of the peace offerings the priest was to have — "the wave breast and the heave shoulder" (Lev. 7:34). But the greed of the priests moved them to defy His word in their pride and take all they pleased.

The priests openly set aside the revealed will of God and started a custom of their own (1 Sam. 2:13-17). It was a terrible time. The worshipper with a conscience pleaded for one thing only: that God be honoured in his sacrifices, through obedience to His word. He pleaded in vain. And not only this. The priests took whatever they pleased of the offerings, with greed that knew no principle and violence that knew no shame. Even Eli, the high priest, protested, yet he let these things go on and shared in the sin.

How great was their sin! They defiled the people's sacrifices, and to that they added shameless gluttony. God had made ample provision for their support (Lev. 7:34). But no, this was not enough. They had to have more. And if the poor, browbeaten people of God would not give it willingly, they would take it by force.

The sin of these men had two marks. First, they disregarded the rights of those who came to worship the Lord, and seized their portions (vv. 13-14). Second, they disregarded the rights of the Lord. They laid unholy hands on the Lord's portion and made sure they themselves were served before Him, so putting themselves ahead of God (vv. 15-16). They made themselves fat with the Lord's offerings and caused men to abhor them.

Are these not the principles of any clerical system, whether pagan, Jewish, or Christian? In the end they are the principles of every class of men who take to themselves authority or privileges over other men in religious matters. They claim rights over simple believers. They make sure they themselves are served at those believers' expense. In their view, even the priest's servant has more authority than the worshippers.

They were sons of Belial; they did not know the Lord, and yet they ministered in the outward things of the sanctuary. It could only result in the worst corruption. They handled holy things and were wicked in heart and life. It has been well said that "a holiness that is only external is the worst unholiness."

These men held the office of representing the people before the Lord. Yet they did not know the Lord themselves, and they used their position to enrich themselves at the people's expense (12-16). See how great their sin was before the Lord: their conduct led the people to despise the offering of the Lord. They became instruments for the corruption of the professing people of God (17).

They had started a custom completely foreign to Scripture. Their servant would come with a three-pronged flesh hook and take from the people's offerings everything the hook brought up from the boiling pot. God had stipulated what part of the peace offerings the priest was to have — "the breast that is waved and the thigh that is raised" (Lev. 7:34) — but greed drove the priests to defy His word in their arrogance and take all they pleased.

Here are three offences. First, they took meat they had no right to. Second, they took it in a wrong way. Third, they took it at a wrong time. So the order they had to follow was clearly fixed already, and everyone knew it… A certain portion was appointed for the priest, and he was not to take it himself. The person offering the sacrifice gave it to him.

The priest's portion in the peace offering is also dwelt upon. That portion is, more exactly, the waved breast and the raised shoulder. The breast speaks of the affections of Christ, and the shoulder of His strength. As we share in priestly communion in the thoughts of God, what was waved before Him in its wonderful perfectness becomes ours to enjoy — "the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge." And that strength which supports His feeblest ones can never fail.

The sin of these men had two sides. They disregarded the rights of those who came to worship the Lord, confiscating their portions (vv. 13-14). They also disregarded the rights of the Lord. They laid unholy hands on the Lord's portion and made sure they were served before He was, so taking precedence over God Himself (vv. 15-16).

Are these not the principles of every class of men who take to themselves authority or privileges over other people in religious matters? They claim rights over ordinary believers. They make sure they are served at the expense of those same believers. In their view even the priest's servant has more authority than the worshippers.

Can people who are in the true place, on true ground, as they say, still practise evil — people who do not know the Lord? Yes, and from the very same motive as that of the sons of Eli. It is what they can get… Wickedness went on at the very doors of the tabernacle at Shiloh.

Men saw such wicked conduct in the priests. So they became disgusted with all religious performances and with the truth those performances pictured. They turned away from the offering of the Lord. It is so still. An unholy, selfish ministry is the greatest stumbling block to the great mass of the people.

"But Samuel," though not even a priest, "ministered before the Lord as a child, clothed with a linen ephod." Scripture mentions his ministry both before and after the account of the wickedness of Eli's sons. So God values the simple service of a little child. The linen ephod speaks of moral righteousness: how much more fitting for Samuel than for the priests!

The fat therefore was God's portion. So it must not be neglected or left until the morning. It had to be offered at once. God must have His part before His people had theirs. This is the secret of all blessing: give the Lord the highest place, think first of what is due to Him, and lose sight of everything else until you have given it.

The "fat" means the best part, the inward energy and will. It is a picture of the inward energy of the Lord Jesus when He offered Himself to God.

They had another method. Before the sacrifice was made at all, and so before the fat was burned, they demanded raw meat from the worshipper. Suppose the worshipper spoke up for God and urged that the fat be burned first. The fat belonged wholly to God and had to be burned on the altar (Lev. 7:31). The priest's servant would refuse even to hear the suggestion, and threaten to take the meat by force, and the fat with it. So the priests were not only cruel to the people; they also treated God's commandment with contempt.

The sin of these men had two marks. They ignored the rights of the people who came to worship the Lord, and seized their portions (vv. 13-14). They also ignored the rights of the Lord. They laid unholy hands on the Lord's portion and made sure they were served before He was, so putting themselves ahead of God Himself (vv. 15-16).

God had made full provision for their keep. But no, this was not enough. They had to have more. If the poor, bullied people of God did not give it willingly, they took it by force. They lived in luxury among a people of simple habits. They kept servants, and "made themselves fat with the best of all the offerings of God's people." And to the people's credit: they put up with losing their own rightful share of the sacrifices, but they objected when the priest's servant took the fat, which was to be burned whole on the altar.

Men who do not know the Lord serve in the things of God. They are not serving Him but themselves, and so they are under the control of Satan, the god of this age. When people saw such wicked conduct in the priests, they grew disgusted with all religious performances and with the truth those performances pictured. They turned away from the offering of the Lord. It is still like that today. An unholy, selfish ministry is the greatest stumbling block to most people.

We have noticed that there were two families at the only true place — Shiloh. One is approved, the other disapproved. What was the difference? The words are very plain. "The child did minister to the Lord, before Eli the priest." This is the first test. Are we ministering to the Lord, or to self and self-importance? Which is it? Do not evade this question.

They had another method. Before the sacrifice was made, and so before the fat was burned, they would demand raw flesh from the offerer. The offerer might speak up for God and urge that the fat be burned first. The fat belonged wholly to God, to be burned on the altar (Lev. 7:31). The priest's servant would reject the suggestion outright, and threaten to take it by force along with the fat.

The sin of these men had two marks. They disregarded the rights of those who came to worship the Lord, and confiscated their portions (vv. 13-14). They also disregarded the rights of the Lord. They laid unholy hands on the Lord's portion and made sure they were served before He was, so taking precedence over God Himself (vv. 15-16).

How great was their sin! They profaned the sacrifices of the people, and added shameless gluttony to it, though God had made ample provision for their support... But no, this was not enough. They had to have more. If the poor, bullied people of God would not give it willingly, they would take it by force. They lived in luxury among a people of simple habits. They kept servants, and "made themselves fat with the best of all the offerings of God's people."

And the people, to their honour, though they let themselves be deprived of what was theirs by right in the sacrifices, objected when the priest's servant took the fat.

And is this not always the case? Where God is pushed aside and His service despised, is the bond between people not corrupted too?... So here. The priests will take their own portion out of the sacrifice. Not the part God's law kindly provided for them, but the best part, and the part that belonged to Him alone. The worshippers still had some tender conscience left, and pleaded that God should have His part first. A rough answer and a threat of violence were all they got.

These men held the office of representing the people before the Lord. Yet they did not know the Lord themselves, and they used their position to enrich themselves at the people's expense (12-16). The greatness of their sin before the Lord shows in this: their conduct led the people to despise the offering of the Lord. They became instruments for the corruption of the professing people of God (17).

Are these not the principles of any system of clergy, whether pagan, Jewish, or Christian... the principles of every class of men who claim for themselves authority or privileges over other men in religious matters? They claim rights over simple believers. They make sure they themselves are served at the expense of those same believers. In their view even the priest's servant has more authority than the worshippers. They seize part of what belongs to God alone, and in the end they cause Him to be despised, so that they may be honoured instead of Him.

The sin of these men had two sides. They disregarded the rights of those who came to worship the Lord, taking their portions (vv. 13-14). They also disregarded the rights of the Lord. They laid unholy hands on the Lord's portion, made sure people served them before Him, and so took precedence over God Himself (vv. 15-16). They made themselves fat with the Lord's offerings and made men hate them.

God had made plenty of provision to support them... But no, this was not enough. They had to have more. If the poor, bullied people of God would not give it willingly, they would take it by force... And the people deserve credit. They put up with losing what the sacrifices gave them by right. But they objected when the priest's servant took the fat. According to Leviticus 3:3-5, 16, the fat had to be burned entirely on the altar, as "a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the LORD."

The very men whose job was to represent the people before the Lord did not know the Lord themselves. They used their position to enrich themselves at the expense of the people (12-16). You can see how great their sin was before the Lord: their conduct led the people to despise the offering of the Lord. They became instruments for the corruption of the professing people of God (17).

They handled holy things and were wicked in heart and life. It has been well said, "a holiness that is only external is the worst unholiness."... When men saw such wicked conduct in the priests, they became disgusted with all religious ceremony and with the truth it pictured. They turned away from the offering of Jehovah. It is so still. An unholy, selfish ministry is the greatest stumbling block to the great mass of the people.

They claim rights over simple believers. They arrange things so that these same believers serve them, at the believers' own cost. In their eyes even the priest's servant has more authority than the worshippers. They seize, to a degree, God's own rights, and in the end they make men despise Him, so that men honour them instead. They did not know the Lord (v. 12); "There is no fear of God before their eyes" (Romans 3:18).

The priests took whatever they pleased of the offerings, with shameless greed and arrogant violence. Their threat was, "You must give it now, and if not I will take it by force." Even Eli, the high priest, protested, yet he let these things go on and shared in the sin. "You honour your sons above Me," the Lord said to him, "fattening yourselves on the choicest parts of every offering of My people Israel."

Man had profaned the ordinance of God in the priesthood, and for this God would set aside His own order. Yet He said, "I will raise up for Myself a faithful priest, who shall do according to what is in My heart and in My mind. And I will build him a sure house." How refreshing to the weary soul to see mercy triumph over judgment! Everything that failed in man's responsibility is made sure again in the hands of One who alone is "the faithful and true Witness."

After the account of the shameful practices of Eli's sons, we are told the lovely conduct of Hannah's child, and it comes as a relief: "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord, a boy clothed with a linen ephod." The contrast shows the difference between the rejected priests and the child chosen to be the prophet of the Lord. That "but" shines out like a star in the night of Shiloh's low condition and its degraded priesthood.

Does this not assure our hearts? However dark the day, God will keep a testimony for Himself and sustain the faith of His true people. The constant mention of "the child" also shows the way God takes to keep His testimony alive in a day of ruin. He passes by the religious officials who give themselves their own standing, and takes up "the child" to be a witness to Himself.

"But Samuel," though not even a priest, "was ministering before the Lord, a boy clothed with a linen ephod." Scripture mentions his service both before and after the account of the wickedness of Eli's sons. So God values the simple service of a little child.

Here Samuel does not serve before Eli, but more directly "before the Lord, a boy clothed with a linen ephod." That is, he serves in a priestly character, for the linen ephod was the special clothing of the priesthood. Now that the priesthood had fallen, the Lord clothes this young Levite with it for the time being. It was the same later with David, who wore the ephod before the ark.

The mention of the ephod, the priestly garment, suggests that the only spotless robe in the priesthood had fallen to a little child. For the time being he stands for the house of Aaron, which had fallen into ruins in the hands of Eli and his sons.

"Therefore the sin of the young men was very great in the sight of the Lord, for the men treated the offering of the Lord with contempt." This is the root: evil practised by people who do not know the Lord. Notice the contrast: "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord, a boy clothed with a linen ephod." Here is the remedy for all the evil at Shiloh — to truly minister before the Lord, clothed with practical righteousness. Do weigh this.

Shiloh should have been the most sacred place on earth, and it was, since the tabernacle and ark of God were there. But the sons of Eli, the high priest, had also made it a pit of corruption. It is beautiful to see how richly God repaid Hannah's trust in Him and preserved Samuel... Like Joseph earlier and Daniel later, what pleased God ruled all his ways, in spite of the sinful things going on around him... Scripture records this, and that shows God takes account of faithfulness to Him from our earliest years.

In a sense, Samuel has taken the place of the priesthood. The priesthood was the means by which man drew near to God. But when the priesthood had failed, God can work in sovereignty, and that is what He is doing here. He gives Samuel, that is, prophecy, by which God draws near to man in His sovereign grace.

Young as he was, the linen ephod marked this child for service around the holy things of God. If the sons of Eli had shown ordinary sense, they could have read their own removal in this garment. They were to be replaced by the worthier successor training in front of them. His devout mother also brought him the "little coat" year by year. It was not the ordinary garment worn by children of his age and rank. It was a robe — the kind of garment the high priest wore along with the ephod. All this bore its own testimony to the gracious purpose of God. Everyone with eyes to see and a heart to understand could read it. Yes, better days were coming for the nation. The time had not yet arrived, and more discipline had to come before the recovery and revival that arrived some twenty years later.

The coat which his mother brings him year by year is in keeping with this. It is the meil, the "robe" of the ephod, which was also part of the high priest's dress. Kings, nobles and others wore it too. The high priest's robe, like the ephod, had its own distinctive features. About Samuel's we know nothing, but the connection is hard to doubt. The sanctuary must have supplied the ephod. So two witnesses joined here in their testimony to him. The higher kingdom was already showing itself.

We can understand how she clung to little Samuel. Her joy at receiving such an answer from the Lord was intense. That very intensity helps us grasp how devoted she was to the Lord's interests. She carried him off to the temple, and after that she got only a glimpse of him once every twelve months, when she gave him the little coat her loving hands had made.

Of course Hannah did not forget Samuel. She visited him every year and brought him a coat. That showed she still cared about his well-being and his appearance. As parents, we should always care about our children's spiritual well-being and their testimony. Wherever they are, we can pray for them.

Oh, where is the little weaned child of today? Where is the child clothed with divine righteousness, wearing the little coat of practical righteousness that grace and mercy keep renewing? What a happy contrast to the boasting official sons of Eli! People like Samuel are the only ones God will use.

If you come to Jesus you will be clothed with a robe that will never grow old or wear out, so you will never need a new one. When people believe on the Lord Jesus, God puts the best robe on them. Do you remember how Adam and Eve tried to make coverings for themselves? But that would not do for God. If we are to have clothes fit for the presence of God, He Himself must give them to us. And He does this for everyone who believes in His Son.

Here we see the grateful Eli pronouncing blessing on the parents of his young assistant. The child's steadiness and devotion to the Lord's interests had no doubt touched his heart. So he would give his parents an old man's blessing as a token of his appreciation. Such a favour is never to be despised. The blessing came through the lips of Eli, but behind it was the Lord Himself. Hannah lost nothing by offering her firstborn on the altar of service to the Lord; He repaid her in kind fivefold.

Abraham offered his son Isaac, his "only son," on the altar on the heights of Moriah. Only then did God promise him children as many as the stars of heaven and the sand on the seashore (Gen. 22:16-18). He will be no man's debtor. He commands His saints to "owe no one anything," and He will certainly set that example Himself.

This is an appalling picture of the wickedness of the priesthood in Israel. Yet alongside it the Holy Spirit now shows us Samuel ministering before the Lord, a child wearing a linen ephod — and the parents blessed too.

But no, there were godly souls who clung to what stood for and represented the Lord in the land. Away in Mount Ephraim a man named Elkanah lived with his wife Hannah… This godly, unknown woman went through hidden and bitter exercises of soul. In them lay the beginning of revival for Israel. A praying woman brought in, in the ways of God, a new era.

So Hannah put the Lord before herself, and His interests before her own. At the same time there is a tender appreciation of the sacrifice that Hannah made. Once she gave little Samuel to His service, her home would have been left almost childless. The Lord did not allow that. He gave Hannah three sons and two daughters to reward her devotedness. Her home rang with the innocent chatter of children, and the mother's heart was comforted. Still, no child or children could quite fill the place that Samuel had.

This grace goes so far as to give seven children to the barren woman. Seven is the perfect number, and Hannah never reached it (v. 21), for she had only six children. The promised blessings reach their fullness only in the glory that is in store for the restored remnant of Israel.

Eli, in spite of his general lethargy, had some spiritual sense left. He showed it by blessing Elkanah and Hannah for having offered Samuel to serve the Lord. By now he had at least found that it was worthwhile having a boy like Samuel with him. He expressed the desire also that the Lord would give Hannah more children. The Lord graciously answered this too, giving her three more sons and two daughters. So her faith was richly rewarded. In verse 18 we have read that Samuel was "ministering before the LORD." Verse 21 adds that the child Samuel grew before the Lord. No doubt this growing was more than physical. Saying "before the Lord" means God was watching his spiritual growth.

Hannah lost nothing by offering her firstborn on the altar of service to the Lord; He repaid her in kind fivefold. Abraham offered his son Isaac, his "only son," on the altar on the heights of Moriah. Only then did God promise him children as many as the stars of heaven and the sand on the seashore (Gen. 22:16-18). He will be no one's debtor. He commands His people to "owe no one anything," so He will set the example Himself.

Her home would have been all but childless once little Samuel was given to the service of the Lord. The Lord did not leave it so. He gave Hannah three sons and two daughters to reward her devotion. Her home rang with the innocent chatter of children, and the mother's heart found comfort. Still, no child or children could quite fill the place that Samuel had.

So Hannah, if she had not what she spoke of prophetically — seven sons — at any rate has three sons, and two daughters besides. Fullness, perfection, will never be short of Christ.

Such was the terrible condition of Israel. Yet as we see the storm gathering, we are again reminded of God's own words: "When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds." In the middle of the gathering gloom, the Spirit of God sustains faith again and again by showing us the bow. So we read, "the boy was ministering to the LORD" (11). Then the sky darkens with the awful disclosures about the sin of the priests (12-17). But again we catch sight of the bow, for we read, "Samuel was ministering before the LORD, a boy… and the boy Samuel grew in the presence of the LORD" (18-21).

In verse 18 we read that Samuel "ministered before the Lord." Verse 21 adds that "the child Samuel grew before the Lord." This growing was surely more than physical. The words "before the Lord" show that God was watching his spiritual growth.

The point here is his intimacy with God. Without it, service cannot be effective.

Hannah was devoted to God, and she might have feared what Hophni and Phinehas would do to her son around the tabernacle at Shiloh. Their company was corrupting. But God preserved Samuel as a holy vessel, "sanctified and fit for the Master's use." He is able to keep His own and guard the interests of His cause. His servants may live banished and alone, like John on Patmos, or among the evil influences of the court of Nero. Circumstances are nothing to God. Our surroundings should not colour our testimony or affect the condition of our soul.

He shows the individuality that belongs to us, even in a crowd, and even away from the restraint and discipline of home… He is a child, but his inheritance lies in the future, while the priesthood is failing and passing away.

Three fearful evils show the evil state of God's professing people under the priesthood of Eli. The priesthood was defiled (12); the offering of the Lord was despised (17); and the tabernacle was desecrated (22). ... The very men whose office was to represent the people before the Lord did not know the Lord themselves. They used their position to enrich themselves at the expense of the people (12–16). ... Finally, their evil conduct turned the house of God at Shiloh into a scene of wickedness. It shocks the natural conscience (22).

To some extent they take God's rights for themselves. In the end they make people despise Him, so that they get the honour instead of Him. They did not know the Lord (v. 12); "There is no fear of God before their eyes" (Rom. 3:18). Without this fear, there is no hatred of evil. Is it any surprise that they displayed the most shocking corruption? (v. 22).

Eli was three things to these shameless offenders: father, high priest, and judge in Israel. But he does nothing except display his own incapacity. Nor can mere age account for this. ... We do not even hear of a rebuke for their earlier contempt of what the Lord had commanded. When immorality is added to that, Eli argues with them and protests, but that is all. He does not use the rod that has been put into his hands, which might even have saved his sons themselves. He leaves them to go unchecked into the divine judgment which he foresees, but does nothing effective to prevent it.

Eli hears of all his sons' wickedness and calls them to account. His words are strong and good. But what use are good, strong words when the strong arm of judgment should fall? The law set the penalty for such sacrilege as this: death. Why did Eli not show himself truly zealous for the Lord's honour? Words, mere words, no matter how strong, are worse than guilty complicity. Worse — because the man who speaks them knows the evil and carries on with it.

Nothing could be sadder than the state of things when Samuel was serving the Lord before Eli the priest. It is all the sadder because Eli was himself a godly man, joined in heart to the faithful ones in Israel. A quiet, devout soul, he still failed to keep order in the priestly house. ... But he had let the reins of government fall out of his hands for so long that he could not now take them up again. His sons went on in their evil ways.

In the middle of the gathering gloom the Spirit of God again and again sustains faith by giving us the sight of the rainbow. So we read, "the boy was ministering to the Lord" (11). Then the sky darkens with the awful disclosures about the sin of the priests (12–17). But again we catch sight of the rainbow: Samuel was ministering before the Lord as a boy, and the boy grew in the presence of the Lord (18–21). Then the darkness grows deeper still as we read of the desecration of the house of God (22–25). But once more we see the rainbow in its beauty: "the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favor with the Lord and also with man" (26).

Eli, godly Eli, lacked spiritual discernment. Still, he showed himself capable of teaching God's mind and ways to young Samuel. What is more, he formed a righteous judgment of the evil, and his heart bled at the sight of his sons' immoral life. He did not hide it from them. No doubt no one had expressed disapproval as plainly as their father had.

The outraged people had probably brought their complaints to Eli. The too indulgent father mildly reproves his sons for their scandalous conduct. He calls it simply "evil dealings," and speaks of the scandal of their disgraceful doings as "no good report." How easy and natural it is to be lenient with ourselves and our own children! They are, after all, only our second selves. And we are all too ready to judge others harshly. So Eli rudely rebuked poor, praying Hannah, and softly admonished his immoral sons.

If there is one kind of sin more hateful than any other, and one that will bring a more terrible punishment, it is sin that behaves shamelessly in the presence of holy things. This is why religious corruption is the worst. Eli hears of all his sons' wickedness and calls them to account. His words are strong and good. But what use are good and strong words when the strong arm of judgment should have fallen? The law provided death as the penalty for such sacrilege as this. Why did Eli not show himself truly zealous for the Lord's honour? Words, mere words, no matter how strong, are worse than guilty complicity. Worse, because the man who speaks them knows the evil and goes on with it.

Being high priest, he was responsible to see that the priests did not abuse their position. He ought to have expelled them entirely from the priesthood. It was his own duty to act for God. He had weakly ignored this with his sons, no doubt from their youth, and they took full advantage of his weakness. His words to them took no effect because he did not back them up with action. Too many parents follow in his tracks.

In fact the sons were the guilty ones. But because Eli took no action against them, God charges him with their offence. It is true that he had raised a protest. Yet with evil of this kind, to protest and still stay alongside the people he protested against was to sanction their evil. The words, you "honour your sons above Me," reveal the secret motive that governed Eli. He set the ties of nature and the friendships of life above the claims of the Lord.

It was not that Eli sinned himself. Nor did he fail to rebuke the sin of his sons and protest against it. Eli saw the evil in his sons, pointed it out, rebuked it, and reasoned with them about it. But still he allowed it. His sons carried on with their priestly ministry, and their father never stretched out a hand of authority to stop it. He never disciplined them, and so he never separated himself, the priesthood, the name and the people of God from the wickedness of his sons. Out of false tenderness he held back. And as long as he did, everything he said was only so much solemn testimony against himself. How many today think they can escape the pain of actually separating from evil by protesting against it in words.

The angry people had probably brought their complaints to Eli, and this far too indulgent father only mildly rebukes his sons for their shameful conduct. He calls it simply "evil dealings," and speaks of their disgraceful behaviour as "no good report." How easy and natural it is to go soft on ourselves and on our own children — who are, after all, only our second selves — while we are all too ready to judge others harshly! That is Eli: rude to poor, praying Hannah, and gentle with his immoral sons. True, he warns them that they are bringing on themselves the just anger of an insulted God. But he does it in such an indirect and feeble way that it carries no conviction, and so brings no change.

The very men whose office was to represent the people before the Lord did not know the Lord themselves. They used their position to enrich themselves at the expense of the people. The greatness of their sin before the Lord shows in the result: their conduct led the people to despise the offering of the Lord. They became instruments for the corruption of the professing people of God.

So Eli saw the evil in his sons. He pointed it out, rebuked it, and reasoned with them about it. But he still allowed it. His sons carried on with their priestly service, and their father never lifted a hand of authority to stop them. He did not discipline them, so he never separated himself, the priesthood, the name of God and the people of God from his sons' sin. As long as false tenderness held him back from that, everything he did say was only so much solemn testimony against himself. How many today think they can escape the pain of really separating from evil by speaking out against it.

It is true that he argued with them and set their sin before them. He also warned them of judgment from the Lord, but there he left it. His words were true, and in some ways earnest, but they were nothing more than words. He did nothing to clear the name of the Lord from dishonour, the sanctuary from defilement, and the people from corruption.

Eli was in no way copying the godless and disorderly behaviour of his sons. Even so, these solemn words are spoken to him: "…and you honour your sons above Me, fattening yourselves on the best of every offering of My people Israel." "You honour your sons above Me!" Poor Eli! For all his godliness, there were people — his own sons — whom he honoured more than the Lord, and his conduct proved it.

It is not enough to see that a thing is wrong, or even to speak out against it. Action is necessary. This is why so many people — like Lot — fret and talk against evil and find no relief or help. There must be action: either real discipline on the wrongdoer, or, if that is impossible, separation from the situation that makes discipline impossible.

Right after this testimony from God, on which faith could rest, the inward state of the people is revealed. So is the iniquity of the priesthood. That priesthood should have been the instrument for cleansing this iniquity of the people. Instead it brought down judgment upon them. "You make the LORD's people transgress," said Eli. "If one man sins against another, the judge will judge him; but if a man sins against the LORD, who will plead for him?" That was the state of things, according to Eli himself.

The priest was the connecting link between the Lord and the people; he was the appointed means, and no one else dared take up his duties. But the priest departed from God in wickedness. He used his position to increase the dishonour of God. So the appointed way of reaching God, and of being restored to Him, was gone.

Eli hears of all his sons' wickedness and calls them to account. His words are strong and good. But what use are good, strong words when the strong arm of judgment should have fallen? The law set the penalty for such sacrilege as this: death. Why did Eli not show himself truly zealous for the Lord's honour? Ah, words — mere words, however strong — are worse than quietly sharing in the guilt. Worse, because the man who speaks them knows the evil and goes on with it.

Eli himself was not sharing in the godless, disorderly behaviour of his sons. Even so, these solemn words are addressed to him: "Why do you trample on My sacrifice and on My offering, which I commanded for My dwelling place? And you honour your sons above Me, to make yourselves fat with the best of all the offerings of Israel My people." "You honour your sons above Me!" Poor Eli! For all his piety, there were men — his sons — whom his conduct proved he honoured more than the Lord.

These sons of Eli had hardened themselves past remedy, and there remained for them nothing but the just judgment of God.

God never abandons a man to Satan like this, however wretched and sinful he is, until he rejects His love and holiness and truth. There He can harden a man in judgment, and He does, and that to ruin beyond recovery. But this comes only after the heart has steeled itself against the appeals of His most patient goodness. Still, hardening in judgment is a real thing on God's part. Some people seem unwilling to admit openly that God is at work on one side and Satan on the other, whatever they may argue.

Eli was ninety-eight years old, and only then did he plead with his sons — but it was too late. "They would not listen to the voice of their father, for it was the will of the LORD to put them to death." Perhaps no passage in the Scriptures should speak more seriously to the hearts of us parents than this sad story. May each one of us take it to heart and learn the lesson.

Does this not assure our hearts that, however dark the day, God will maintain a testimony for Himself and sustain the faith of His true people? The constant mention of "the child" shows the way God takes to keep His testimony in a day of ruin. He passes by the self-appointed religious officials and takes up "the child" to be a witness to Himself.

In the middle of the gathering gloom the Spirit of God again and again sustains faith by giving us the sight of the rainbow. So we read, "the child was ministering to the LORD" (11). Then the sky darkens with the awful disclosures about the sin of the priests (12-17). But again we catch sight of the rainbow, for we read, "Samuel was ministering before the LORD, a boy… And the boy Samuel grew in the presence of the LORD" (18-21). Yet the darkness grows deeper still as we read of the desecration of the house of God (22-25). Once again the rainbow shines in its beauty, for we read that the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favour with the LORD and also with man (26).

Devoted Hannah might have feared Samuel meeting Hophni and Phinehas at the tabernacle in Shiloh, and being corrupted by them. But God preserved Samuel to be a holy vessel, "sanctified and useful to the Master." He is able to keep His own and guard the interests of His cause, whether His instruments live banished and alone, like John on Patmos, or among the evil influences of Nero's court. Circumstances are nothing to God, and it is not our surroundings that should colour our testimony or affect the condition of our soul.

Though only a child, the evil he grows up among does not stain him. He is a witness to the individuality that belongs to us, even in a crowd, and even apart from the restraint and discipline of home. He is a child, but with his inheritance in the future, while the priesthood is failing and passing away.

In his fifth act (v. 26), the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favour with the LORD and also with man. I call this the intimacy of favour. The affection between Samuel and the Lord made men notice his walk. They saw it as a walk that pleased the Lord. Intimacy with God showed in the face of this young boy… All the power of our Christian testimony depends on a secret life spent in the Lord's presence.

In the remarkable language of chapter 2:26, the Spirit of God seems to mark him out on purpose as a picture of the child Jesus… Luke writes of our blessed Lord, "And the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom. And the favour of God was upon him"; and again, "And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favour with God and man" (Luke 2:40, 52). The similarity may be meant to teach us something. Samuel became, in a small way, to the faithful few of his day what the Lord was to the poor and afflicted people of His time.

The Spirit points to the little weaned child. He does not point to any important man in Israel… This always marks "little child" growth, in that hidden wisdom before the Lord. And it goes on growing in the knowledge of infinite wisdom and love. Many have found unspeakable blessedness in this growth. The man who only holds an office must remain in complete ignorance of it, and in that ignorance he will treat it with contempt.

How delightful it is to watch this lovely flower of the Lord's own planting develop! May we, too, grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

But "Eli was very old, and heard all that his sons did to all Israel" in their wrongdoing. His protest was feeble, and it did no good. And now comes a testimony; for God never judges without a warning.

God ordained the priesthood to keep the nation in direct communication with Him. The priesthood broke down completely in the days of Eli. So God raised up men of God, called seers, or prophets. They brought His messages to the people and pleaded with them on God's behalf. This was above all the mission of Samuel. Before his call, "there was no open vision" — no public showing of God's presence among them.

This honourable title is not given out to all the servants of God without distinction. Moses is called "the man of God" five times; David, three times. Samuel, Elijah, and Elisha, with a few other prophets, are described the same way. The New Testament applies it to Timothy. So we too may desire this title, or the character that deserves it.

This man of God comes to Eli unannounced. Of his name and origin we know nothing. God sent three others like him, each with a message, to a king. Only their words have come down to us. God would not have us occupied with His messengers, but with their message. They shall be known in due time, and receive the due reward of their service. So let us be content to work unnoticed and unknown, dear fellow-servants of Christ. Let us be satisfied to deliver our message, bear our testimony, and leave the rest to Him and to "that day."

Verses 27-28 teach us Gentiles something of the highest importance. Before He carries out judgment on what is corrupted, God always recalls the nature of His calling according to His grace. He recalls the blessing He placed in the hands of the men who have been the objects of His goodness… The house of Aaron had been the object of a very special grace among the tribes of Israel. But this grace they had forgotten. They stopped keeping the memory of God's goodness toward them, and so they fell into a state of complete corruption. And so judgment is the last remedy God applies, whether to correct or to cut off beyond recall.

God reminds Eli of the high honour He put on the house of his fathers. The great I AM appeared to Aaron while he was in the land of slavery. With no stated reason except His own sovereign choice, He chose him for the honourable post of high priest to Israel… He reminds them of His past dealings in grace and favour towards them. The review of His "goodness" is meant to "lead them to repentance;" if this fails, the goodness He gave only makes the guilt worse. It must bring down heavier judgment.

The Lord now sends a messenger, a man of God, to Shiloh… But what was the marked failure of Eli? It was the allowance of evil. He seems to have been a likeable old man himself. But while he condemned the evil, he was loose in allowing it and carrying on with it. And what he allows, he is counted as sharing in.

Why was his effort to uphold God's honour in his children so feeble? Why did his protest fail so completely? The occasion was serious, the sin was blatant, and Eli knew it well. Sadly, he indulged his sons.

God will use an unnamed "man of God" to bear witness to Eli. It should have gone so deep into his soul that it moved him to act with firm decision. This message from God was a most solemn reproof to Eli himself, and it begins by asking questions.

Eli is reminded of the high honour put on the house of his fathers. The great I AM appeared to Aaron while he was still in the land of slavery. God gave no stated reason for His choice; it was His sovereign choice alone, and He picked Aaron for the honoured post of high priest to Israel. It was for no special merit on Aaron's part, but of God's freest grace, and God passed this privilege on to his descendants forever. He also gave them ample and generous provision to live on — "all my offerings by fire from the people of Israel."

The priests alone draw near to the holy place. God allows them alone this closeness to Him. But their position brings sins and iniquities that they are called to bear, as an effect of this nearness — things that would pass unnoticed in people outside. What does not suit the presence and the sanctuary of God does not suit His priests... God gave the service of the Levites, and the Levites themselves, as a gift to the priests. Priesthood also was a pure gift to Aaron and his sons. Because of the anointing, God gave them the most holy things to eat, a special privilege of the priests. The same is true of us.

The word "ephod" is a pure Hebrew word, meaning to "put on." Here it has taken on a technical sense. In the Scriptures it is the standard word for the garment of the priest.

These special favours should have stirred them to be faithful in their duties, and moved them to hearty obedience to all His will. This is always God's way with His own, and often with sinners too. He reminds them of His past dealings in grace and favour towards them. He reviews His "goodness" in order to "lead them to repentance." If that does not work, the goodness He gave only deepens the guilt, and must bring down heavier judgment. It is a most solemn and serious thing to trifle with the grace of God, or to abuse it, as many have learned to their sorrow and eternal loss.

For hundreds of years the wrong line had taken over the high-priesthood. Eli belonged to the younger branch of Aaron's family. That branch seized the high-priesthood against God's law, despite the Lord's solemn promise to Phinehas (Num. 25:12-13). But there was a restoration in the person of Zadok, in the time of David and Solomon, because the Lord is faithful despite man's failure and hostility.

Then God blames Eli, not his sons, for kicking at His sacrifice. He had given clear commands about it. This kicking of course shows contempt for God's rights. It rebels against His authority. We may ask, was it not his sons who had done this, not Eli? But Eli was guilty of allowing his sons to do it, for he was in the chief place of authority. God blames him for honoring his sons above God. A solemn indictment indeed for a priest! God includes Eli's selfishness with that of his sons, for He says they had made themselves fat with the best of all the offerings of Israel. How sadly and dreadfully one may abuse the great privileges God has given!

These special favours should have stirred them to be faithful in their official duties. They should have moved them to obey all His will from the heart. This is always God's way with His own, and often with sinners too. He reminds them of His past dealings in grace and favour towards them. He goes over His "goodness" to "lead them to repentance." If that fails, the goodness He gave only makes the guilt worse, and it must bring down heavier judgment.

There are three points in the charge. First, they "kicked," or rebelled, as if God's sacrifices were something to despise, or the rules about them a burden. Second, he honoured his worthless sons above the great and glorious God of Israel. Third, they "made themselves fat" with the very best that Israel brought to His altar. … Those who allow and support their children in any evil way, and do not use their authority to restrain and punish them, in effect honour them more than God. They are more tender of their children's reputation than of His glory, and more eager to honour them than to honour Him.

In fact the sons were the guilty ones, but since Eli took no action against them, God charges him with their offence. It is true he had protested. But the evil was of such a kind that to protest and then stay on with the men he had protested against was to approve their evil. The words, you "honour your sons above Me," reveal the secret motive that governed Eli. He set family ties and friendships above the claims of the Lord.

His words are strong and good. But what use are good and strong words when the strong arm of judgment should fall? … Ah, words, mere words no matter how strong, are worse than guilty complicity. Worse, because the man who speaks them knows the evil and goes on with it.

"You honour your sons above Me!" Poor Eli! Despite all his piety, there were men — his sons — whom his behaviour proved he was honouring more than the Lord. God had been patient with him. But now he was about to reap the bitter fruit of the lack of holiness in his walk. Holiness is nothing other than separation from evil for the sake of God's service. … Did this righteous man, Eli, then despise the Lord? Yes, for "no servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other."

The sons were the guilty ones, but Eli took no action against them, so God charges him with their offence. It is true he had protested. But the evil was of such a kind that to protest and still stay with the men he protested against was to approve their evil. The words "you honour your sons above Me" reveal the secret motive that governed Eli. He set family ties and the friendships of life above the claims of the Lord.

"You honour your sons above Me!" Poor Eli! For all his piety, there were men — his sons, as his behaviour proved — whom he was honouring more than the Lord... Did this righteous man Eli, then, despise the Lord? Yes, for "no servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other."

Under the covenant of law God had proposed that Eli's house and his father's house would walk before Him forever. The glaring failure of the priesthood changed this completely, because such a promise depended on their faithfulness. So God presses on Eli the unchanging principle: "those who honour Me I will honour, and those who despise Me shall be lightly esteemed." The history of the priesthood shows how empty natural succession is.

God promised the priesthood to the house of Aaron forever... "The priest's office shall be theirs for a perpetual statute"; but it was conditional in a way — they had to "walk before" the Lord. This they stopped doing, so they were "put as polluted from the priesthood." In the end this became true of the whole house of Aaron, and that Priest "after the order of Melchizedek, who abides continually" took its place.

He has said, "Those who honour Me I will honour," and this proves true even where the honour given may not come from a renewed soul. It is so in every age. For example, if a household honours God and calls on His name, He will bless that household in His government on earth. The same holds when people carry on daily life and business with the recognition of His name. But this is not salvation; it is temporal mercy according to the principles of God's government.

He always delights to honour His saints in the eyes of others; but then they must not seek their own honour. He will honour His servants. But the moment we step out of the servant's place to take what we judge to be a higher place, He humbles us. The Lord Jesus Christ, the one faithful Servant, was always hiding Himself so that God might appear. And God was always honouring Him in the eyes of others.

These faithful men became witnesses for God, for we read that they stood "before the king." God was true to His own word, "Those who honour Me I will honour."

Because Eli was unfaithful, God would cut off his house. He would raise up a faithful priest to act according to His own heart and mind... From now on the priest would no longer hold the first place before the Lord, but would walk before the Lord's anointed... So through the failure of the priest, God is preparing the way to fulfil His purpose: to establish Christ as King, with a faithful priest walking before Him forever.

"You honour your sons above Me!" Poor Eli! For all his piety, there were men — his sons — whom he was honouring more than the Lord, and his behaviour proved it. God had been patient with him. But now he was about to reap the bitter fruit of the lack of holiness in his walk. Holiness is nothing other than separation from evil for God's service.

Of course God speaks figuratively. The arm is what does the work. It is the strength behind any work that may be done. None of this would be left: the priesthood would be reduced to helplessness... God would still do good to His people despite this, but would take away the priests in their youth. Eli was to be the last of the old men among the priests.

Under the covenant of law, God had proposed that Eli's house and the house of his father would walk before Him forever. But the glaring failure of the priesthood changed this completely, because such a promise depended on their faithfulness. So God presses the unchanging principle on Eli: "those who honor me I will honor, and those who despise me shall be lightly esteemed." This history of the priesthood plainly shows how empty natural succession is.

Eli had sinned through his family, and on his family the judgment would come. Those born into his house would die in the prime of life. Hophni and Phinehas would meet their death in one day. Everyone left of his house would be thrust out of the priest's office to beg their bread. The later history gives the solemn fulfilment of these predictions. The Philistines killed Hophni and Phinehas in battle (1 Sam. 4:11). Sixty years later King Saul cut off the offspring of Eli's house (1 Sam. 22:18). One hundred years after the prediction King Solomon thrust out the last of Eli's house from the priest's office (1 Kings 2:27).

This was the deep fault of the over-indulgent father, though he himself was innocent of the disorders around the tabernacle. He was both high priest and chief magistrate over the land. He had full power to remove them from office and to punish them, but he did neither. How much failure there is of this, sadly, among Christian parents today. There are good men, fathers, who seem to have neither eyes nor ears for the failings of their children. Disastrous results follow... God said of Abraham that he would command his children and his household after him. He did not, like Eli, weakly argue or gently warn. He commanded. This is the very thing Eli failed most to do.

Eli's unfaithfulness and his sons' wickedness brought an entire change in God's dealings. The priesthood passed into the shade. Instead of the King walking by his counsel, the High Priest now came under the King... But God never re-establishes an order of things that has failed in men's hands. In His great grace He goes on to something better. Everything in which man has proved so incapable will be seen in perfection in Christ, on the day He appears.

"Eli was very old, and heard all that his sons did to all Israel" in their wrongdoing. His protest was weak, and it did no good… And now comes a testimony. God never judges without a warning.

The sons were the guilty ones. But Eli took no action against them, so God charges him with their offence. True, he had protested. Yet he stayed with the very men he protested against. With evil like this, staying was to approve it. The words you "honour your sons above Me" expose the secret motive that governed Eli. He set the ties of nature and the friendships of life above the claims of the Lord.

God speaks figuratively. The arm is what does the work, the strength behind anything that gets done. Nothing of this would be left. The priesthood would sink into helplessness. An oppressor or adversary would gain some prominence in God's habitation… Despite this, God would do good to His people. But He would take away the priests while they were young. Eli was to be the last of the old men among the priests.

These special favours should have stirred them to faithfulness in their official duties. They should have moved them to wholehearted obedience to all His will. This is always God's way with His own, and often with sinners too. He reminds them of His past dealings in grace and favour towards them. The review of His "goodness" is meant to "lead them to repentance." If that does not work, the goodness given only deepens the guilt. It must bring down heavier judgment.

Think of it — he honoured his wicked sons above Jehovah! Could sin be greater or guilt more serious? Some parents allow and back up their children in any evil way, and never use their authority to restrain and punish them. In effect they honour their children more than God. They are more careful of their children's reputation than of His glory, and more eager to honour them than to honour Him.

The later history gives the solemn fulfilment of these predictions. Hophni and Phinehas are killed in the fight with the Philistines (1 Sam. 4:11). Sixty years later King Saul cut off the offspring of Eli's house (1 Sam. 22:18). One hundred years after the prediction, King Solomon thrust out the last of Eli's house from being priest (1 Kings 2:27).

Even so, God would do good to His people, but He would take away the priests in their youth. Eli was to be the last of the old men among the priests. All his sons would die in the prime of life. God gave a sign to confirm that this was real. His two sons would die on the same day. God did not add what was also true, that Eli himself would die that day.

The sons were the guilty ones. But Eli took no action against them, so God charges him with their offence. It is true that he had protested. Yet the evil was of such a kind that to protest and still go on with the men he had protested against was to approve their evil. The words "you honour your sons above Me" reveal the secret motive that ruled Eli. He set the ties of family and the friendships of life above the claims of the Lord.

Eli had sinned through his family, and on his family the judgment would come. His descendants would die in the prime of life. Hophni and Phinehas would meet their death in one day. Everyone left of his house would be driven out of the priest's office to beg their bread. Later history gives the solemn fulfilment of these predictions. Hophni and Phinehas were killed in the battle with the Philistines (1 Sam. 4:11). Sixty years later, King Saul cut off the descendants of Eli's house (1 Sam. 22:18). One hundred years after the prediction, King Solomon drove the last of Eli's house out of the priesthood (1 Kings 2:27).

"And the Philistines fought, and Israel was defeated, and they fled, every man to his home... And the ark of God was captured, and the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, died." So the word of the Lord came true. Poor Eli sits by the wayside watching, and his heart trembled for the ark of God... The Philistines might be wrong to fear that simply bringing the ark onto the field would settle the fight. But the Israelites were a hundred times more guilty. They flattered themselves that the ark, brought in this way, was bound to save them.

Here we see that it does not matter how good the personal character of God's servant may be. If he fails to rule his own house properly, God will not hold him guiltless. Eli should have restrained his sons... His terrible end was this: he broke his neck over the house of God, because he had not broken his heart over his own house.

Here again a bright light shines out of the gathering gloom. God was to raise up for Himself a "faithful priest," His "Anointed." This clearly looks beyond either David or Zadok. It is God's glorious King-Priest, who on earth always did what was according to God's heart and mind. So, in wrath, God always remembers mercy.

So, after all, deep though the dishonour, the priesthood should not perish forever. Another should take it up in faithfulness as pronounced as the previous unfaithfulness. Another should carry out the office according to God's mind, and God would establish him forever. God was not defeated, for He had in reserve One who should be not only prophet but priest. In due time there would come the faithful priest: and that priest is CHRIST.

Verse 35 looks far beyond the time of Eli and his sons. It looks beyond all the priests who have come and gone down through the centuries. God Himself would raise up a faithful priest — not one from the natural succession of the line of Aaron. We can say this of the Lord Jesus Christ alone: He would do according to what is in God's heart and mind. God would build Him a sure house. This Priest was of the order of Melchizedek (Heb. 5:9-10), not of Aaron, and as such He is a priest forever (Heb. 5:6).

We know that God had planned it long before, entirely apart from all this sad and humbling history: "And I will build him a sure house, and he shall go in and out before my anointed forever." This is deeply striking... In the law "the anointed one" always means the high priest. Now, for the first time in God's dealing with Israel, "His anointed," or "the anointed," is not the high priest. It is a greater person, and the high priest is to walk before him.

Compare this with Numbers 27:18-23. There Joshua must "stand before Eleazar the priest, who shall inquire for him by the judgment of the Urim before the LORD. At his word they shall go out, and at his word they shall come in." The deciding word is Eleazar's. Now the priest must walk before the king, though he is faithful and works according to the Lord's mind and heart. What is more, until now the title "the anointed" was understood to belong to the High Priest. From now on it belongs to the king.

This word came true in the days of Solomon (1 Kings 2:26-27), when Abiathar was thrust out of the priesthood and Zadok put into his office. Yet surely the prophecy holds God's answer in Christ to the failure of the priesthood. He is now a priest after the order of Melchizedek, interceding for us in the presence of God. And He will soon come out to sit as Priest upon His throne (Zech. 6:13).

It then shows us the priesthood, set in formal order and succession, corrupting itself and removed by judgment. After that God brings in His own Priest (1 Sam. 2:35), who was to act according to His heart, and for whom He was to build a sure house. In the same way it shows us the kingdom, set up at first according to man's desire, corrupting itself and removed by judgment. After that God brings in His own King, also after His heart, and for whom He would also build a sure house... And this anointed of God, we know, in the fullness of times, is to be none less than the Son of God Himself, God's King to hold the unshakeable kingdom, and God's Priest to hold the untransferable priesthood.

Utter poverty and humiliating begging would be the lot of Eli's descendants. It is a picture fearful to think about, and it must have struck Eli with horror. But his sons had lived in luxury and power. It was fitting that their children should grovel in disgrace and poverty. They had lived in luxury at Jehovah's expense, robbing Him of what was His due. Their children would come to beg for a piece of silver — the word is said to mean the smallest coin — and a morsel of bread.

Eli's house, on the other hand, would sink to the level of beggars. They had no heart of a priest. They asked for a priest's office only to relieve their hunger. The sadness of this should have reached Eli's conscience, but searching one's own heart is foreign to empty religion.

These sons of Aaron had fallen so low that they forgot the election of grace. It had marked them out from their brothers and given them the privilege of being Jehovah's ministers. Now they regarded the work of their office as nothing but a means of profit.

In fact the sons were the guilty ones. But Eli took no action against them, so God charges him with their offence. It is true that he had protested. Yet the evil was so serious that to protest and still stay with the men he protested against was to approve their evil. Eli's secret motive comes out in the words, you "honour your sons above Me." He set family ties and friendships above the claims of the Lord.

Everyone left of his house would lose the priest's office and beg their bread. The later history shows the solemn fulfilment of these predictions. Hophni and Phinehas die in the fight with the Philistines (1 Sam. 4:11). Sixty years later King Saul cuts off the increase of Eli's house (1 Sam. 22:18). A hundred years after the prediction, King Solomon removes the last of Eli's house from the priesthood (1 Kings 2:27).

So the high priest is set aside as the direct link between the Lord and His people. He falls into second place, since there is another anointed one greater than he. Through the priest's failure God is preparing the way for His purpose: to establish Christ as King, with a faithful priest walking before Him for ever.

This history of the priesthood plainly illustrates the emptiness of natural succession.

But it turned out that Jehovah's anointed begged bread from one of Eli's descendants, and that man did not refuse him. So God showed His mercy while His judgments were falling on that godless house. A member of that house held the priestly office while David was on the throne.

It is refreshing and yet most sad to think of the child Samuel growing up in an atmosphere like this. Refreshing, because the Lord kept him untouched while the shameful uproar raged all around him. But it is sad that one so tender had not only to see this awful state of things, but to speak out against it. The mention of the ephod, the priestly garment, suggests that the only spotless robe in the priesthood had fallen on a little child. For the time being, we might say, he stands for the house of Aaron, which had fallen into ruins in the hands of Eli and his sons.

He went on serving as a Levite during the time when the word of the Lord was precious (literally, rare); there was no vision. Up to this time Samuel had not known the Lord, and the Lord had not yet revealed His word to him (verse 7).

"No open vision" means there was no public revelation of God's will concerning His people; no open showing of His mind, either by dreams, or prophet, or by Urim and Thummim.

Yes, raising up the faithful prophet was the pledge of the "faithful priest." It pointed to Him who would hold in Himself the office of Prophet, Priest and King — the "Anointed One," the "Faithful and the True."

Someone else's failure is never a reason to ignore God's mind and will. If "the word of the LORD was rare in those days; there was no frequent vision," it was not all Eli's fault — the general state of the people had something to do with it.

Often in times of ruin the enemy blocks the revelation of the mind of God… But though it was blocked, the word had not been stopped. Grace provides for the needs of each era. And here is the comfort: it is often in the darkest days of decline that God gives the most new light, to guide and encourage His own… The unfaithfulness of the priests had almost cost God's people the ordinary way He had set up for coming to Him. But His grace could not leave them without help and without a way to communicate with Himself. So He gives Samuel — that is to say, prophecy. Through it He comes near to man in sovereign grace and makes His mind known.

This chapter brings Samuel forward and marks him out for a most serious place: he is the herald of the change under way. He was to be the intermediate link in preparing the way. If the king was coming, there is a forerunner. Before the coming of Messiah, John the Baptist prepared the way. So in this book Samuel stands in a similar relation to the king.

If this is not the case with you and me, we are not walking with God. You may say, I belong to a society that numbers its thousands and thousands. We do not read that there were thousands of Enochs, before the flood, who walked with God. Is the word of the Lord precious to you? The more that blessed word is attacked, is it still the more precious to you?

In this night scene we have a picture of the moral condition of the nation at the time of the calling of Samuel. Eli the priest was "lying down in his own place" — a symbol of spiritual sloth. His eyes should have kept watch over the interests of his God and the welfare of His people Israel. Instead they had "begun to grow dim so that he could not see." His dimness of vision was only a figure of that lack of moral discernment that marked him at the time.

In 1 Samuel 1, Eli lacked discernment; in 1 Samuel 2, he lacked the moral courage to separate himself from evil; here, his eyes are dim and he cannot see. And yet the lamp of God had not yet gone out — a striking image of his moral condition. What is more, this guide of the simple proves to be dull of understanding. It was only at the third call that "Eli perceived that the LORD was calling the boy." Yes, "dull of hearing": that is exactly what he had become. Samuel was simply ignorant, which is a thousand times better. When there is godliness, God remedies ignorance.

Here we find a feature of Eli's spiritual weakening that is not mentioned in the first two chapters: "for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons blasphemed God, and he did not restrain them" (v. 13). Eli knew the evil, and he had authority to repress it in his sons, but he did not use it. How often does the spiritual weakening of the head of a family come from his slackness? He should have kept order and discipline where God gave him authority. This is a great cause of ruin.

The eyes of Eli began to grow dim so that he could not see. It is so wherever known evil is allowed or excused. Dimness of perception of divine truth is sure to be the result.

The call comes suddenly at night, when men are asleep, but not the Shepherd of Israel. The dim eyes of the priest, and the hint that the tabernacle lamp was almost out, are not just decoration. Such was the state of things which made the new intervention of the Lord necessary. Eli was there in his place, but the Voice does not address Eli — not even though the message concerns him closely and sadly. For God's face is turned away from him.

There is the strong and aged Eli, the very priest of Jehovah. Yes, age, antiquity, office, authority — all these he has, and he is in the dwelling-place of God, but he does not hear a word. He had grieved the Lord by allowing evil. Can we hear and understand the voice of the Lord if we are allowing evil? Impossible!

Eli's eyes were "dim," and the Lord called Samuel. In other words, Eli's house is passing away, and the faithful priest is about to come on the scene. Eli was grey-haired and dim-sighted. He could spend his time in sleep and darkness, while the Lord's voice was sounding so very near him. Solemn — most solemn warning!

Nearness to God was meant to give the priests good judgement about holy and unholy, clean and unclean, so that they could teach the people (Leviticus 10:9-11). Grace has put every believer into the priestly place, but are we in the power of it? Are we spiritually discerning?... The poor old man was sleepy, and could only say again and again, "Lie down again." "So then let us not sleep, as others do," says the Apostle, "but let us keep awake and be sober" (1 Thessalonians 5:6). Nothing is easier than to slip into a drowsy spiritual condition... The Lord in His infinite mercy keep us from that terrible state which would lead us drowsily to quiet others who are awake. God forbid that we should ever say to one to whom He is speaking, "Lie down again."

In this night scene we have a picture of the moral condition of the nation when Samuel was called. Eli the priest was "lying down in his own place" — a symbol of spiritual laziness. His eyes should have watched over the interests of his God and the welfare of His people Israel. Instead his "eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see." That failing sight pictured the lack of moral discernment that marked him at the time. The lamp of God still burned, but its light was fading, as if about to go out and leave the place in darkness.

Samuel had lain down "before the lamp went out." This implies that they let it go out regularly, against the commandment. Everything pointed to weakness and exhaustion.

Some think the command to keep the lamp burning "always" clashes with 1 Sam. 3:3. But the Hebrew does not mean "always" in the absolute sense. It means continually, or steadily. The lamp burned from evening to morning, without a break for that time.

The lamp is the symbol of testimony. At that time Israel's testimony to the nations was very low. The people were living in sin, and their leaders were corrupt and weak. Very soon after this a dying saint exclaimed, "The glory has departed from Israel" (1 Sam. 4:21), and she was right. Nothing is a testimony for God unless it is pure and holy. This is true both of a company of believers and of each person.

It was still called "the tabernacle of the congregation" (1 Sam. 2:22), but also "the temple of the Lord," and "the house of the Lord" (1 Sam. 3:3, 15). These later names only pointed forward to the house that would later stand in Jerusalem.

Two hundred full years had passed since Scripture last mentioned the ark... From that dark day of lust, revenge and slaughter, down to Samuel's time here, the "ark of God's testimony" never appears once. It is as if God hid Himself after that deed of darkness done by the people called by His name, until His people might return to Him. Now, under Samuel, it comes once more into prominence, for the light of God's testimony was about to revive.

Despite man's failure and departure from God, with all the death and disaster it brought, God's faithfulness remained. The conditions of God's house were still there, and the ark of God is seen. In the awful moral darkness light was available, and the meeting place of God with His people remained... Samuel had not yet grasped these great thoughts of God. But he put himself close to them. In the place where God would draw near to His people, Samuel drew near to God.

"And Samuel was laid down" — "to sleep" is supplied, and would perhaps be better left out. Perhaps he was not asleep, as a healthy boy would be. Perhaps he was praying, or keeping watch in case the sacred lamp went out and left everything in darkness. That lamp was never meant to stop burning.

God is not unmindful of His people whatever their condition. So the Lord begins to act on His own, in sovereign grace, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." In such a low condition, we might have expected the people — or the priest on their behalf — to call on the Lord. It was the Lord, however, who "called Samuel."

It is a solemn thing when the people of God have little ministry from the Lord to feed their souls. It is solemn when they lack spiritual discernment, and when the testimony to God among them is dying out. This is true of His people as a whole, and of any group of them. Such was the condition of Israel in the days of Eli. However, God is not unmindful of His people whatever their condition. So we find the Lord begins to act from Himself in sovereign grace, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." We might have thought that, in such a low condition, the people — or the priest on behalf of the people — would have called upon the Lord. It was the Lord, however, who "called Samuel."

The call comes suddenly at night, when men are asleep, but not the Shepherd of Israel. The priest's dim eyes and the hint that the tabernacle lamp was about to fail are not just scenery. Such was the state of things which made the new intervention of the Lord necessary. Eli was there in his place, but the Voice does not address him, even though the message concerns him closely and sadly. God has turned His face away from him. To Samuel, though, the Voice is something audible — not just a hint or an impression on the heart.

Yet this divine-human Voice, how sweet it is! In every age it is the same. Calling one, too, by one's name, for by name He knows His sheep. But may we not also, like Samuel here, mistake the divine voice because it is so human — expect it far off, and miss it because it is near?

Formalism always becomes dim-sighted, while faith becomes wide awake. While the lamp of God in the temple was virtually ready to go out, God had His own way of causing revival. Samuel had lain down, but was not asleep when God called him. The quickness of the little boy's response shows a beautifully obedient spirit.

Three times the Lord calls Samuel. If he did not at first recognise the Voice, he was at least prompt in answering, and ran to Eli, whom he supposed had called him. Willing child! He was faithful in what was least, and God would entrust him with greater things. That is a needed lesson for us all, and above all for those new to faith in Christ. Be content, dear young Christian, to serve in little things. Then, if He sees fit and there is need, your God can promote you to more important ministry.

It is also significant to notice the character of the one the Lord uses for the prophetic office. He had been devoted to the Lord as a Nazirite, and the record calls him, again and again, the child. He is separate from the evil he speaks against. He is devoted to the interests of the Lord. And, like a child, he is aware of his own weakness and lack of wisdom. So he is dependent on the Lord and drawing all his resources from the Lord. Such is the one the Lord uses to reach the consciences of His people.

The office of the priest is to draw near to the Lord on behalf of the people, and so keep relations with the Lord going. The prophet works the other way. Through him the Lord draws near to the people, when the people's failure has broken those relations. For this reason the prophet comes to the front in a day of ruin.

It is a solemn thing for the people of God as a whole, or for any company of His people, when there is little ministry from the Lord to feed their souls. It is solemn when they themselves lack spiritual discernment. It is solemn when the testimony to God among them is dying out. Such was the condition of Israel in the days of Eli. However, God is not unmindful of His people whatever their condition. So we find the Lord begins to act from Himself in sovereign grace, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." We might have thought that in such a low condition the people would have called upon the Lord, or the priest would have called on their behalf. It was the Lord, however, who "called Samuel."

Three times the Lord calls Samuel. If he did not at first recognise the Voice, he was at least prompt in answering, and ran to Eli, whom he supposed had called him. Willing child! He was faithful in what was least, and God would entrust him with greater things. That is a needed lesson for us all, and above all for those who have just come to the faith of Christ. Be content, dear young Christian, to serve in little things; then, if He sees fit and the need arises, your God can promote you to more important ministry.

Samuel had laid down, but was not asleep when God called him. The eagerness of the little boy's response shows a beautifully obedient spirit. He ran to Eli, for there was no one else there, so far as Samuel knew. Eli could only tell him he had not called. At the second call, this unusual experience should have alerted Eli. Instead he tells Samuel to lie down again.

The point here is personal knowledge of the Lord. Samuel belonged to Him, served Him, and worshipped Him from his infancy. But he had not yet met the Lord face to face. It may happen in our Christian life that we rejoice in the finished work of the cross on our behalf without knowing the Lord personally. Knowing salvation and knowing the Author of salvation are two different things.

Poor Eli! His eyesight has almost gone, and so has his faithfulness. Lying down to sleep is a fitting picture of his spiritual state. To human eyes the case looked hopeless. How unlikely that God would step in! And yet it is just then that He does speak, and to a little child. He must call three times before it dawns on Eli that the Lord is speaking to the child. He had told him to "go and lie down again," just as many careless people would try to quiet those to whom God is speaking.

Though three times mistaken, the Lord did not lose patience with His little servant. Oh that we might learn from Him in this, as in everything else! May we be patient with one another, and above all with those we think are slow to understand.

He was a little fellow, whose father and mother were God's children, but though he lived with Eli in God's house, he "did not yet know the Lord." That was strange, was it not? And yet I know something stranger still. There are many of my young friends here tonight, and they have lived longer than Samuel, and Jesus has called them many a time, but they do not yet know Him as their Saviour.

To Samuel the Voice is something audible — not a simple hint or impression on the heart. At the same time it is very human. The boy imagines it is Eli speaking, three times over, because he has not yet learned to recognise Jehovah.

The first lesson Samuel was set to learn was to know and obey the voice of the Lord, for when called by Him he ran at first to Eli. As a child, he was under the commanding influence of the high priest's age and sacred office. But this danger is not limited to the young. How readily people hand over to the claimed authority of men a conscience that belongs to God alone! The solemn thing is, as we see here, that where the heart runs after men, in that same degree it leaves God.

Poor Eli! His eyesight has nearly gone, and so has his faithfulness. Lying down to sleep, he is a fitting picture of the spiritual state he was in... He had told him to "lie down again," just as many careless people would try to quiet those to whom God is speaking. But at last it dawns on the old man that God is there. Weak as he may be with his sons, he does not dare — he would not silence that Voice, slow as he had been to obey it.

Formalism always becomes dim-sighted, while faith becomes wide awake... At the second call, Eli should have been alerted by this unusual experience, but he tells Samuel again to lie down.

Three times the Lord calls Samuel. If he did not recognise the Voice at first, he was at least prompt in answering. He ran to Eli, whom he supposed had called him. Willing child! He was faithful in what was least, and God would entrust him with greater things. We all need that lesson, especially those newly come to the faith of Christ. Be content, dear young Christian, to serve in little things. Then, if He sees fit and the need arises, your God can promote you to more important ministry.

Though he was mistaken three times, Jehovah did not lose patience with His little servant. Oh that we might learn from Him in this, as in everything else! May we "have patience one with another," especially with those we think slow to understand.

In Samuel's case, the Lord in rich grace repeated the call until He had fully separated him from man to Himself. Happy result of persistent grace! How every truly delivered soul is in debt to it.

God will draw near to man. This He did to this child. He came, stood, called, and revealed Himself to Samuel by His word. By nature he did not know the Lord. In this he was like all of us; and he needed this sovereign work of grace by the word to know Him. A revelation from God, perfect as it is and beyond price, is not enough on its own. There must also be a revelation of God by it for individual blessing. Many own a Bible. That makes them more responsible than those who do not have one, yet they live and die in ignorance of God.

The point here is personal knowledge of the Lord. Samuel belonged to Him, served Him, and worshipped Him from his earliest years, but he had not yet met the Lord face to face. In our Christian life we may rejoice in the finished work of the cross for us and still not know the Lord personally. Knowing salvation and knowing the Author of salvation are two different things. And someone who does not know the person of Christ has no power to bear witness.

He leaves out the word "Lord." No doubt this is because no one had yet taught him about the Lord Himself. That can easily happen, even to someone surrounded by the outward recognition of the things that belong to Him. In fact such things often hide the real knowledge of Himself.

He came, stood, called, and revealed Himself to Samuel by His word. By nature he did not know the Lord (1 Sam. 3:7). In this he was like us all; and he needed this sovereign work of grace by the word to know Him... A revelation from God is perfect, and precious beyond words. Yet on its own it is not enough. Through it God must also reveal Himself to each person, if that person is to be blessed. Many have the Bible, and that makes them more responsible than those who do not have it, yet they live and die without knowing God.

The Bible says of these godless men, "They did not know the Lord." They held the office of priest, but their hearts were far from God. It was said of Samuel, later, that he "did not yet know the Lord" (chap. 3:7). But that was a very different thing. He was on the way to knowing Him, and to know Him is eternal life. But these sons of Eli had hardened themselves beyond cure, and nothing was left for them but the just judgment of God.

In times of ruin the enemy often blocks God from making His mind known... But hindered is not stopped. Grace provides for the needs of every age. And here is the comfort: it is often in the darkest days of decline that God gives the most new light to guide and encourage His own... The priests were unfaithful, so the ordinary way God had set up for people to come to Him was almost lost. But the grace of God could not leave His people helpless, with no way to communicate with Him.

Is it not that we may know Him as Saviour long before we know Him as Lord, and as the Lord speaking to us individually? That was true in our own case. And we believe many have never known Him that closely — close enough to receive real messages from Him and to speak with Him.

He was a little boy. His father and mother were God's children. He lived with Eli in God's house, and yet he "did not yet know the Lord." That was strange, was it not? And yet I know something stranger still. Many of my young friends are here tonight. They have lived longer than Samuel. Jesus has called them many times, but they still do not know Him as their Saviour.

It is a solemn thing when the people of God, or any group of them, have little ministry from the Lord to feed their souls. It is solemn when they lack spiritual discernment, and when the testimony to God among them is dying out. Such was the condition of Israel in the days of Eli. But God does not forget His people, whatever their condition. So the Lord begins to act from Himself in sovereign grace, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." In such a low state, we might have expected the people to call on the Lord, or the priest to call on Him for them. It was the Lord, however, who "called Samuel."

Under the law the sons of Aaron were much nearer to the Lord than this young Levite, but they were passed by and he was called. It was an act of sovereignty. Had the priests then any ground for complaint? Had the people? Surely not. How much had the Lord done for them all, and what return had they made? His sovereign right then was to choose and to call whom He would.

At Samuel's third coming, Eli "perceived that the LORD was calling the boy." What an indirect, yet forceful rebuke to the privileged high priest, through whom God had promised to reveal Himself for His people. What must have filled his mind? God had passed him by — the old man, the elder — and had spoken instead to a mere child. "Go, lie down," he says; "and if He calls you, say, Speak, LORD, for your servant hears." "If He calls you" — did the rejected priest almost hope that it was not really the voice of God, or that He might not call again? Eli, no doubt, feared the worst.

Formalism always becomes dim-sighted, while faith becomes wide awake... At the second call, Eli ought to have been alerted by this unusual experience, but tells Samuel again to lie down. Not until the third time did he begin to realize that the Lord was calling Samuel.

The first lesson Samuel had to learn was to know and obey the voice of the Lord, for when the Lord called him he ran at first to Eli. He was a child, and the age and sacred office of the high priest had a commanding influence over him. But this danger is not limited to the young. How often people too readily bow the conscience, which belongs to God alone, to authority that men have seized for themselves!... The solemn thing is, as we see here, that where the heart runs after men, in the same degree it leaves God.

Though three times mistaken, the Lord did not lose patience with His little servant. May we learn from Him in this, as in everything else, and "have patience one with another" — especially with those we think are slow to understand.

With Samuel, the Lord in rich grace repeated the call until He had separated him from man to Himself. Happy result of persistent grace! Every truly delivered soul owes a debt to it.

Samuel's first revelation from God comes at a time when Eli had lain down to sleep and his eyes had begun to grow dim. God means us to apply this spiritually too. Formalism always becomes dim-sighted, while faith becomes wide awake. While the lamp of God in the temple was almost ready to go out, God had His own way of causing revival.

Three times the Lord calls Samuel. Even if he did not recognise the Voice at first, he was quick to answer. He ran to Eli, who he thought had called him. Willing child! He was faithful in what was least, and God would entrust him with greater things — a needed lesson for us all.

It is not until the third call that "Eli perceived that the LORD was calling the boy." Yes, "dull of hearing": that is what he had become. Samuel was only ignorant, which is a thousand times better. When there is godliness, God remedies ignorance.

The poor old man was sleepy, and could only say over and over, "Lie down again." … May the Lord in His infinite mercy keep us from that dreadful state. It would lead us, half asleep, to quiet others who are awake. God forbid that we should ever say to someone God is speaking to, "Lie down again."

Up to that moment, Eli's teaching had shown Samuel the way to enter into communication with God (v. 9). Now he is in direct relationship with the Lord, and the Lord is entrusting His secrets to him.

"If he calls you" — was the rejected priest half hoping it was not really the voice of God, or that God might not call again? No doubt Eli feared the worst. So Samuel obeys and lies down once more, no doubt with a beating heart, to hear the Voice again.

The point here is personal knowledge of the Lord. Samuel belonged to Him, served Him and worshipped Him from infancy, but he had not yet met the Lord face to face. In our Christian life we can rejoice in the finished work of the cross on our behalf without knowing the Lord personally. Knowing salvation and knowing the Author of salvation are two different things.

He leaves out the word "Lord." No doubt no one had taught him before about the Lord Himself. That can happen all too easily, even to someone surrounded by the formal acknowledgment of His things. In fact such things often tend to obscure the real knowledge of Himself.

He did not say "Speak, Lord," as Eli had told him to reply. Perhaps his little heart was so full of childlike awe at that moment that he dared not say the word "Lord." But the Lord knew he was willing to listen.

But Samuel had long been trained in subjection to the word of God. "Speak, Lord, for your servant hears" was the formative principle of his character from childhood.

Is it not true that today God passes by all the pretentious official religion that has departed from Him? He reveals to babes the things hidden from the wise and clever. The childlike, obedient spirit that can say, "Speak, Lord, for Your servant hears," will have a message.

It is a solemn thing when the people of God as a whole, or any company of His people, have little ministry from the Lord to feed their souls. It is solemn too when they lack spiritual discernment, and when the testimony to God among them is dying out. Such was the condition of Israel in the days of Eli. But God is not unmindful of His people, whatever their condition. So we find the Lord beginning to act from Himself in sovereign grace, "to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." We might have thought that the people — or the priest on their behalf — would have called upon the Lord. It was the Lord, however, who "called Samuel."

Yet how sweet this divine-human Voice is! In every age it is the same. It calls one by name, for He knows His sheep by name. But may we not also, like Samuel here, mistake the divine voice because it is so human — expecting it from far off, and missing it because it is near?

In Samuel's case, the Lord in rich grace repeated the call until He had separated him from man to Himself. What a happy result of persistent grace! Every truly delivered soul is in debt to it.

Samuel's first lesson was to know and obey the voice of the Lord. We can see why: when the Lord called him, he ran at first to Eli. As a child, he was strongly influenced by the high priest's age and sacred office. But this danger is not limited to the young. A conscience belongs to God alone. How often people hand it over to the claimed authority of men!

Samuel would surely stay wide awake for the fourth call. He answers, "Speak, for your servant hears." He leaves out the word "Lord." No doubt this is because he had not yet been taught about the Lord Himself. That is all too possible even when a person is surrounded by the formal acknowledgment of His things. In fact such things often tend to hide the real knowledge of Him.

Notice also the character of the one the Lord uses for the prophetic office. He had been devoted to the Lord as a Nazirite, and the account calls him, again and again, the child. He is separate from the evil he testifies against. He is devoted to the Lord's interests. Like a child, he is aware of his own weakness and lack of wisdom. So he depends on the Lord and draws all his resources from the Lord. This is the kind of person the Lord uses to reach the consciences of His people.

Had things been normal, God would have spoken to the people in and through the high priest, as He Himself had arranged. But since that was impossible, He spoke to and through the man with the willing ear. This is still His way. Seven times the messages to the churches in Asia say, "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." This is clearly an individual matter.

Eli had already heard the sentence passed on his house. Now God prepares Samuel for his work as a prophet by telling him plainly of the judgment coming on the priest, and the reason for it. All Israel is caught up in the judgment that falls on the priest's family, for what the Lord was about to do would happen "in Israel," and make both ears of everyone who hears it tingle. The Lord Himself is about to act.

Eli's eyes are "dim," and the Lord calls Samuel: in other words, Eli's house is passing away, and the faithful priest is about to come on the scene. Samuel runs to Eli, but sadly all Eli could say was, "Lie down again." He had no message for the child. Grey-haired and dim-sighted, he could spend his time in sleep and darkness, while the Lord's voice was sounding so very near him. Solemn — a most solemn warning!

The Lord's message to Samuel is dreadful. It may seem to us too terrifying for the ears of a little boy; but God is wiser than we are — in fact, it is the "little children" who get the warning about antichrist in 1 John 2:18. Samuel knew about the wickedness of Eli's sons, and he needed to know God's thoughts about it too. God's patience with this would end suddenly. He would do in Israel what would make every ear tingle… and once it began, there would be no delay in carrying it out.

We are plainly told the reason the Lord deals directly with His people. It is only because they themselves refuse to deal with the evils among them. Terrible evils had gone on among the people of God, yet the evil in itself did not bring God's government down on them. No amount of evil would call out God's government if His people judged the evil themselves. The Lord steps in with judgment because the evil was known and left alone.

Can anything be more striking than God's judgment on this principle, which people treat so lightly? — the allowing of evil, even when you yourself are free from that evil. If you keep company with those who practise sin, or who hold false doctrine, you are clearly held as guilty of that very evil yourself. "Come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins, lest you share in her plagues."

As she died, she named her baby son "Ichabod," which means "no glory." The glory had departed from Israel. By turning away from God, Israel had brought this state of "Ichabod" on herself. The ark, the glory of God's presence shown among His people, was gone… In a deeper sense the word "Ichabod" is written over what claims to be the church but has departed from the truth.

Samuel, alone with the Lord, is taught by Him the true state of the scene he is in, and the judgment about to fall on it (1 Sam. 3:11–14). That is the only place and way to take in prophetic truth simply and without bias. Such truth is vital to a true witness, because the enemy's cunning always works to keep up a false confidence to the very last moment.

The second reason for giving His word to Samuel was to confirm His word to Eli about his guilt concerning his sons. The man of God had already told him this. The law said that two or three witnesses must establish every matter. So the Lord would establish His word with the failing priest, and assure him that what He had spoken before would surely come to pass. Eli might wish to think about it as little as possible, but God would remind him of His word this way.

God's patience about this would come to an abrupt end. He confirms to Samuel what He had said before to Eli about his house. Once this began, there would be no delay in its accomplishment.

Eli had already heard the sentence passed on his house. Now God prepares Samuel for his work as a prophet by telling him plainly of the judgment coming on the priest, and the reason for it. All Israel is to share in the judgment that falls on the priest's family. What the Lord was about to do will take place "in Israel," and make both the ears of everyone who hears it tingle. The Lord Himself is about to act.

The message confirms the previously announced doom of Eli's house. But why repeat what He had already said so fully? Is not once enough for God? Does it not imply that God still waits for man's repentance, even though He has spoken? That He expects men to cry to Him, and to give Him, so to speak, an opportunity to relent? Why should He warn at all, if not for this?

But Eli, though he bows under God's hand, does not turn to Him in this way. His spiritual sense is dulled, so he cannot hear the undertone of pity in the threatening wrath. He has no energy to take up the authority entrusted to him, or to act for the One he has so long ignored. So judgment takes its course.

We are told plainly what leads the Lord to deal directly with His people. It is only because they themselves refuse to deal with existing evils. Very evil things had been done among the people of God. Yet the evil in itself did not call forth God's dealing in government. No amount of evil would call forth God's government if the evil is dealt with and judged by the people of God. The Lord intervenes in judgment because the evil was known and not dealt with.

Eli had sinned through his family, and upon his family the judgment would come. His descendants would die in the prime of life, and Hophni and Phinehas would die on the same day. Everyone left of his house would be driven out of the priest's office and left to beg for bread. The later history gives the solemn fulfilment of these predictions. Hophni and Phinehas are killed in the battle with the Philistines (1 Sam. 4:11). Sixty years later King Saul cut off the descendants of Eli's house (1 Sam. 22:18). One hundred years after the prediction, King Solomon removed the last of Eli's house from the priesthood (1 Kings 2:27).

Here is a feature of Eli's spiritual weakening that the first two chapters do not mention: "For the iniquity which he has known, because his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not" (v. 13). Eli knew the evil. He had authority to stop it in his sons, but he did not use it. What good was that authority to him, when God Himself had given it? How often does the spiritual weakening of the head of a family come from his own slackness? He should have kept order and discipline in the place where God meant his authority to work. This is a great cause of ruin.

Eli hears of all his sons' wickedness and calls them to account. His words are strong and good. But what use are good, strong words when the strong arm of judgment should fall? The law set the penalty for such sacrilege: death. Why did Eli not show himself truly zealous for the Lord's honor? Ah, words, mere words, however strong, are worse than sharing openly in the guilt. Worse, for the man who utters them knows the evil and goes on with it.

Eli stands toward these shameless offenders as father, high priest, and judge in Israel, all at once. Yet he does nothing, and only shows how powerless he is. Age alone cannot explain it... He never uses the rod placed in his hands, though it might even have saved his sons. He lets them run unchecked toward the judgment of God, which he sees coming but does nothing effective to prevent.

Parents who allow and approve their children in any evil way, and do not use their authority to restrain and punish them, in effect honor their children more than God. They care more for their children's reputation than for His glory. They want to honor them more than they want to honor Him.

Can anything be more striking than God's judgment on this principle, which men treat so lightly — the allowance of evil? You may be free from that evil yourself. Yet if you are associated with those who practise sin, or hold false doctrine, God holds you guilty of that very evil. "Come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins, lest you share in her plagues."

Here we see that whatever the personal character of a servant of God may be, if he fails to rule his own house properly, God will not hold him guiltless. Eli should have restrained his sons... he broke his neck about the house of God, because he had not broken his heart about his own house. Suppose he had waited on God about his stubborn sons. Suppose he had acted faithfully and carried out the holy duties given to him. Then the house of God would never have been dishonoured, and the ark of God would never have been taken. In a word, if he had treated his house as part of himself, and made it what it ought to be, he would not have brought down on himself the heavy judgment of Him whose principle it is never to separate the words, "you and your house."

His sons made themselves vile and he did not restrain them. His mild protests did not restrain them at all. In contrast, God backed His words to Eli with a solemn oath: no sacrifice or offering would ever purge this iniquity. For this willful sin there was no offering. God must act in judgment.

Eli should have restrained his sons... he broke his neck about the house of God, because he had not broken his heart about his own house. Suppose he had waited on God about sons who went their own way. Suppose he had acted faithfully and carried out the holy responsibilities resting on him. Then the house of God would never have been defiled, and the ark of God would not have been taken.

If God appoints something that can make atonement, well and good. If He does not, nothing can ever purge the offender's iniquity. So no sacrifice or offering was ever to purge the iniquity of Eli's house (1 Sam. 3:14)... What a solemn thought this is! Thank God the sinner's case is not beyond remedy if he listens to God. The cases referred to are those of people who reject God's testimony. But God must prescribe the remedy, and the offender must submit to it.

There were offences that no sacrifice could purge. "Anyone who set aside the law of Moses died without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses," says Heb. 10:28. And these priests did in a way despise God's holy ordinances, which they knew.

Ahimelech belonged to the house of Eli, and God's judgment had doomed that house to be wiped out because of the wickedness at Shiloh... In line with this judgment, Eli's descendants were all killed at Nob, with one exception. God had not forgotten the mercy Ahimelech showed to His anointed. So Abiathar was spared, and he represented the junior house of Aaron all through David's reign. Solomon later removed him, and this fulfilled what the Lord had said about the house of Eli in Shiloh (1 Kings 2:27).

Can anything be more striking than God's judgment on this principle that men treat so lightly? You may be free of an evil yourself. Yet if you allow it, and stay tied to people who practise sin or hold false doctrine, God holds you guilty of that very evil. "Come out of her, my people, so that you do not take part in her sins."

Man had profaned God's ordinance of priesthood, and for this God would set His own order aside. Yet He said, "I will raise up a faithful priest, who will do what is in My heart and in My mind, and I will build him a sure house; and he will walk before My anointed for ever." How refreshing it is to the weary soul to see mercy rejoicing over judgment again and again. Everything that failed in man's responsibility is made sure in the hands of One who alone is "the faithful and true Witness."

Israel's priesthood under the law rested on the priests keeping their place in faithfulness to God. It was conditional. The oath to Eli was an oath of irreversible judgment on his house (1 Sam. 3:14). And this setting aside of the house of Eli was to raise up a faithful Priest... the Priest who is made with an oath.

We can picture that little boy, lying awake till morning, with the great awe of God's nearness on him. He naturally shrank from the responsibility of telling this message to Eli.

The tabernacle had been the house of God in the wilderness. The children of Israel carried it, with all its sacred furniture, into Canaan and set it up at Shiloh. So this was the place they came to with their yearly sacrifices (1 Sam. 1:3). It was still called "the tabernacle of the congregation" (1 Sam. 2:22), but also "the temple of the Lord" and "the house of the Lord" (1 Sam. 3:3, 15). These later names were only a foreshadowing of the house that would be built in Jerusalem later on.

His answer may have been imperfect, but in heart he was ready to receive God's revelation of the coming judgment on Eli. He was right not to enjoy passing it on to him. Yet sad as the message was, it meant he would open the doors on a new day in more ways than one (v. 15).

Samuel remained in bed till morning, but it is not said he slept. This first message from God would surely burn itself into his deepest soul, so that he would never forget it. It would fix in his heart the highest respect for the holiness of the God he had to deal with. We can understand why he feared to tell Eli what God had said. In the same way, any true prophet of God will feel some fear about declaring the whole counsel of God. He knows that men will not always welcome it. But he must not give in to his fear, for when God speaks He will allow us no excuse for concealing His word.

Samuel felt a natural fear, made up of several things at once. Even so, he shows himself able to stand for God, and he tells Eli everything. His first message is one of evil, and it goes to the people he has grown up with. Perhaps he needed this himself, in view of the place he was to take in the crisis at hand. And though he fears, he does not listen to his fears, nor refuse the burden laid on him, but bears it faithfully.

Notice that God does not command Samuel to tell Eli what he had heard. Our God always keeps our limits in mind, and He does not lay greater burdens on us than we need to carry. It would have been a heavy burden for this sensitive child to have to tell the aged priest the "heavy news" given to him during the night. An easier way is open to him; Eli himself asks him under oath to tell him all.

But Eli calls him, and, true to himself if not to his sons, hears and bows to the dreadful sentence of God spoken by the lips of a child.

God reveals Himself personally to Samuel and makes him the keeper of His word. He raises this young boy to the dignity of a friend of God, and He hides nothing from him of what He was about to do. Until that moment Eli's teaching had shown Samuel how to enter into communication with God (v. 9). Now he is in direct relationship with the Lord, and the Lord is entrusting His secrets to him. Samuel proves himself faithful with this trust. Like Paul with the Ephesians later (Acts 20:20), he kept back from Eli nothing that was profitable to him. Poor Eli — set aside, and forced to receive God's thoughts from the mouth of a young boy! What a humiliation for this aged man! His path sinks lower and lower, while the path of his pupil rises and reaches places the feet of the high priest never touched.

Samuel lay down to sleep, and the Lord called him by name. At once he answered, "Here I am," or "Behold me." Thinking it was Eli who had called him, he ran to present himself.

Willing child! He was faithful in what was least, and God would entrust him with greater things. That is a needed lesson for us all, above all for those who have just come to faith in Christ. Be content, dear young Christian, to serve in little things. Then, if He sees fit and the need arises, your God can promote you to more important ministry.

Notice that God does not command Samuel to repeat His message to Eli. Our God always keeps our limits in mind. He does not lay greater burdens on us than are necessary. It would have been a heavy burden to make this sensitive child tell the aged priest the heavy news of the night. An easier way is open to him; Eli himself asks him under oath to tell him everything.

Samuel remained in bed till morning, but it is not said that he slept. This first message from God would burn itself into his inmost soul, so that he would never forget it. It would stamp on his heart the deepest respect for the holiness of the God he had to deal with. It is easy to understand his fear of telling Eli what God had said. In the same way, any true prophet of God will have some fear about declaring the whole counsel of God. He knows that men will not always welcome it. But he must not give in to his fear, for when God speaks He will allow us no excuse for concealing His word.

Samuel shows a natural and proper shrinking from passing this solemn word on to the aged Eli. At the same time he is faithful to the Lord, telling "every bit" of the Lord's message. It is always right for the younger to show respect to the elder. But neither youth nor age is to stand in the way of faithfulness to the Lord.

Whatever the Lord reveals to us in His Word we must faithfully declare to others, even to the Elis of this day.

Notice that God does not command Samuel to make known to Eli what had been told him. Our God is always thoughtful of our limitations. He does not lay on us heavier burdens than are necessary. It would have been a heavy burden for the sensitive child to tell the aged priest the heavy news of that night. An easier way is open to him: Eli himself asks him under oath to tell him all.

Eli, calling Samuel, put him under oath to tell him all that God had spoken. He surely realised that God had spoken to Samuel about no light matter. It likely concerned the corrupt condition of the priesthood.

We can easily understand his fearing to tell Eli what God had said. In the same way, any true prophet of God will feel some measure of fear about declaring the whole counsel of God. He knows that men will not always welcome it. But he must not give in to his fear, for when God speaks He allows us no excuse for concealing His word.

Samuel, though with a natural fear made up of several things, proves himself able to stand for God, and tells him everything. His first message is one of evil, and it goes to those he has grown up among. Perhaps he needed this himself, in view of the place he was to take in the crisis at hand. And though he fears, he does not listen to his fears, nor refuse the burden laid on him, but carries it faithfully.

Samuel shows a natural and proper shrinking from passing this solemn word to the aged Eli. At the same time he is faithful to the Lord, telling every bit of the Lord's message. It is always right for the younger to show respect to the elder, but neither youth nor age is to stand in the way of faithfulness to the Lord.

So God reveals Himself personally to Samuel and makes him the keeper of His word. This young boy is raised to the dignity of a friend of God. As with Abraham, that man of experience and faith, God hides nothing from him of what He was about to do. Until that moment Eli's teaching had shown Samuel how to enter into communication with God. Now he is in direct relationship with the Lord, who is entrusting His secrets to him. Samuel proves faithful with this trust. Like Paul later with the Ephesians, he kept back from Eli nothing that was profitable to him. Poor Eli — set aside, and made to receive God's thoughts from the mouth of a young boy!

The message confirms the doom of Eli's house already announced. But why repeat what had already been said so fully? Is once not enough for God? Does it not mean that God is still waiting, even though the thing has been said, for man's repentance? That He expects men to cry to Him, to give Him, as it were, the opportunity to relent? Why warn at all, if not for this?

So God reveals Himself personally to Samuel and makes him the keeper of His word. God lifts this young boy to the dignity of a friend of God. As with Abraham, that man of experience and faith, God hides nothing from him of what He was about to do. Until that moment, Eli's teaching had shown Samuel how to speak with God (v. 9). Now Samuel is in direct relationship with the Lord, and the Lord is entrusting His secrets to him. Samuel proves faithful to this trust and, like Paul with the Ephesians later (Acts 20:20), he kept back from Eli nothing that was profitable to him. Poor Eli — set aside, and made to receive God's thoughts from the mouth of a young boy!

Samuel shows a natural and proper shrinking from passing this solemn word on to the aged Eli, and at the same time faithfulness to the Lord in telling "every bit" of the Lord's message. It is always right for the younger to show respect to the elder, but neither youth nor age is to stand in the way of faithfulness to the Lord (15-18).

As for Eli, how comforting it is to see this aged man humbly submit to the judgment he had deserved. "It is the LORD. Let Him do what seems good to Him" (v. 18). God's will is good, and his soul bows to it. May God grant us Eli's spirit when we are under His discipline. That spirit is the humility that comes before recovery. It is a broken heart that does not rise up to resist the will of God, but accepts His will with all its consequences. God's will is indeed "that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."

Poor Eli! We cannot help feeling deeply for the old man under such a blow. Yet how much better it would have been for him to fall on his face in repentance, crying to God day and night in prayer. Or to take immediate steps to remove his sons from the priesthood. That would have been better than saying, almost like a fatalist, "Let Him do what seems good to Him."

The piety of poor, guilty Eli shines out in this disaster... With a self-judged heart he had humbly accepted God's judgment on himself and his sons (1 Sam. 3:18); now his thought is only for the ark of the Lord. "His heart trembled for the ark of God" (1 Sam. 4:13). When the messenger speaks of it, Eli falls from his seat and dies (1 Sam. 4:18). The judgment on his family is not what kills him. What kills him is the dishonour done to the Lord, and His departure from among His people.

"It won't do," says dear Rutherford, "to live among the rumbling wheels of second causes, saying, 'if it had not been for this circumstance,' or 'if this had not happened.' We must get out of hearing of that jarring din of confused noises. We must run at once to God with 'It is the LORD. Let Him do what seems good to Him.' Only then will the soul find her rest."

Samuel was holy in all his conduct. God entrusts a revelation to him; he administers this trust faithfully; and this is the means by which he receives a new revelation. So, we are told: Samuel grew; he continued to grow. His spiritual growth followed a walk that rose step by step. "And the LORD was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground." Samuel was God's instrument to express His mind, and he spoke "as oracles of God" because God was with him to preserve him.

Samuel answered the call of the Lord and faithfully delivered his first message. Then we learn that "the LORD was with him." God's solemn word about the priest was that He would carry out against Eli everything He had spoken. The Lord was against the priest; He was with the prophet. The Lord was with him, so He let none of his words "fall to the ground." Because his words did not fall, it became clear from Dan to Beersheba that God had established him as a prophet.

How different Samuel was, with a soul stirred from his youth! The Lord was with him as he grew, and allowed none of his words to fall to the ground. How few indeed have a reputation of this kind! Even if we do not speak harmful words, too often we let useless words fall from our lips, instead of words that are always true and right.

He allowed none of Samuel's words "to fall to the ground." This was a further testimony to Eli. What God had spoken through Samuel about the coming judgment of his house was certain, even if for reasons of His own He might delay the blow for a few years.

Had the circumstances been normal, God would have spoken to the people in and through the high priest, according to His own appointment. But since this was impossible, He spoke to and through the man with the willing ear. This is His way still... The man with the willing ear will keep advancing in the knowledge of God and His word. This brings deep blessing to him, and spiritual good to everyone who hears his testimony.

The humble instrument will not go unrecognised, even though careless and thoughtless people may mock. The Lord let none of his words fall to the ground; what he said came to pass, and his message commanded a respect that could not be withheld... No need to fear the face of man when one has seen the face of God. The weakest is as strong as the mighty when he has the words of God on his lips. Let us remember this in these days, and not lose heart because of our feebleness. The Lord will let none of His words fall to the ground, even when faltering lips speak them.

It is deeply moving to see that dear child placed in Eli's hands by such unwavering faith, where Eli's wretched sons might have influenced him for evil. But Hannah commits Samuel to the care of the Lord, and the Lord takes care of him... What joy this must have been to Hannah's heart! — not the empty pride of having a distinguished son, but the deep thankfulness of one who cared for the Lord's interests before her own.

It is deeply significant that Samuel was established as a prophet of the LORD. This marks the difference between the priest and the prophet. The office of the priest is to draw near to the Lord on behalf of the people, and so keep relations with the Lord in place. The prophet is one through whom the Lord draws near to the people. He comes when the people's failure has broken those relations down. For this reason the prophet comes to the front in a day of ruin.

In times of ruin the enemy often hinders God from making His mind known... But the word was hindered, not stopped. Grace provides for the needs of each era. Here is the greatest comfort: it is often in the darkest days of decline that God gives the most new light, to guide and encourage His own... The priests were unfaithful, so the ordinary way God had set up for coming near Him was almost lost. But the grace of God could not leave His people without help and without a way of communicating with Himself.

The priesthood has now been judged, and we find the prophet brought out into the open. God provides in this way so that there is no lapse on His side, however much everything else may fail. So Samuel is called now, and established before all Israel as the mouthpiece of the LORD to them. This happens before the promised judgment falls on Eli's house.

Samuel answered the call of the Lord and delivered his first message faithfully. Then we learn that "the LORD was with him." The solemn word about the priest was, "I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken" (12). The Lord was against the priest, He was with the prophet. Because the Lord was with him, He let none of his words "fall to the ground." And since his words did not fall to the ground, it is clear from Dan to Beersheba that he is "established as a prophet of the LORD."

Samuel had not come to power in a rush, by an unexpected turn of fortune. He was not the favoured creature of some revolution. He had been with them from a child, and "all Israel from Dan to Beersheba knew that Samuel was established as a prophet of the LORD," for their guidance and blessing. He had grown up in front of them, and everyone knew his honesty and worth.

Beyond and above all knowledge of truth, Samuel, child as he was, had the deep joy of knowing that the Lord had called him, chosen him, and loved him. This carried him through every scene of trial, sorrow, and difficulty in that great period. It enabled him to give real help to the people when by sin they had forfeited everything... If they knew from Dan to Beersheba that he was established as a prophet of the LORD, they also learned that as a prophet he could and would pray for them.

All knew the Lord was speaking through Samuel. It will be so now. Just as we are little, and weakness itself, God will use His servants, and people will hear their words far beyond Dan to Beersheba.

Often in times of ruin the enemy hinders the revealing of God's mind... But though hindered, nothing had stopped the word. Grace provides for the needs of each age. And here is the comfort: it is often in the darkest days of decline that God gives the most new light, to guide and encourage His own.

The priesthood was the way man drew near to God. But when the priesthood had failed, God can work in sovereignty, and that is what He is doing here. He gives Samuel, that is, prophecy, and through it God draws near to man, in His sovereign grace.

So grace acts when the wickedness of the priesthood has broken up the established order in Israel... "Samuel was established [a word that carries the thought of God's faithfulness, see margin] as a prophet of the LORD," and so God renews His communications with His people... We see God's faithfulness in this. He gives His word to hold faith up in a time of disorder, and to work on the conscience and conduct of those who hear it.

We do not meet davar (word of) Jehovah again until 1 Samuel 3:1, 7, 21, which makes it more striking. In verse 21 it stands out clearly: Jehovah spoke to him, Samuel, bid'var — by the word of Jehovah.

God entrusts a revelation to him. He handles this trust faithfully. And that is how he receives a new revelation... One revelation leads to another. The Lord kept appearing to him at Shiloh and revealed Himself to him by His word (v. 21). So Samuel grew both in personal knowledge of the Lord and in the knowledge of His revealed word.

If things had been normal, God would have spoken to the people in and through the High Priest, as He Himself had arranged. But that was impossible, so He spoke to and through the man with the willing ear. This is His way still... the man who has the willing ear... is sure to grow in the knowledge of God and His word. That brings deep blessing to him, and spiritual gain to everyone who hears his testimony.

Shiloh was the gathering place of Israel. However few gathered to Him — yes, even one — He reveals Himself in this way... He reveals Himself to those who are truly gathered to Himself in a way you find nowhere else, and He does it by the word of the Lord.

There is Eli, heavy and old, the very priest of Jehovah. Yes, age, long standing, office, authority — he has all of these, and he is in the dwelling place of God, but he does not hear a word. He had grieved the Lord by allowing evil. Is it so with any of us? Can we hear and understand the voice of the Lord if we are allowing evil? Impossible!